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ambrosiagoldfish · 13 days

Note

Adam x third spouse part 3 I’m begging pookie ❤️

like a time skip to when Charlie appeared and proposed the idea

Benifit of the doubt Pt.4

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Warnings: General Adam TW’s, a little bit sad for a moment but it’s ok. Gn! Reader! honestly that’s about it I think?? Wow this is the first time it’s been this short in this series.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Request Box: Open

Word Count: 4617~

A/n: So… it’s been almost 2 months… whoops. In all seriousness though I’m sorry it’s been so long. I’ve just not been in the mood to write and a lot of stuff has been happening (which is finally over) and I’m glad I could finally post this. I was also, if I’m honest, nervous to post this, cause I’m not sure if everyone’s ready for the direction of the story. But I have made it clear that I wanted to do a time skip to the show at somepoint and decided to do it now! If you enjoy this, please let me know cause I’m really nervous about (Not my words of affirmation love language coming out-) ALSO to the requester, I know you said part 3, but I used it for part 4. I got your request as I was making part 3 soooo my bad. Hope you don’t mind tho <3 this will be the last part before the angsty finale (and maybe an epilogue)

Reblogs are always appreciated!

Anyways this was NOT beta read unfortunately, I tried to get as many errors out during the writing process so hopefully it’s fine. Also, there’s probably some words I might have wanted to italicize or make bold that aren’t, but I’m too tired to care honestly.

Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily @hcneyiced @v3r41ynn @ghostdoodlen @nxptvne-13 @ximenavc-che @edgyfluff @ericityyy @diffidentphantom @faimmm @slasher-whore69 @1-randomized @ozzersauce @fanlovedlt @alientee (if I forgot someone or you want to be added just tell me !!)

Days turned to weeks, to months, to years. Until eventually an eon had passed. An entirety filled to the brim with an indescribable happiness and love, threatening to spill over at any given moment. You loved Adam and Adam loved you.

To say it was all happiness would be a lie, there were some moments of sadness and pain, but all relationships were like that, even ones that lasted for eternity. You both always bounced back, apologize and moved on with a stronger bond than before. And you loved every second of it.

A lot has changed in these last few eons. Adam formed a band and is now the most popular guitarist in all of heaven. You both made new friends, some got into heaven while others were made there. Emily was one of these people to you, she looked up to you for being older than her. You’ve existed for almost all of human existence so, of course she’d look up to you.

Adam had also made new friends, his band members, some officials in heaven, but someone he’s grown close to recently was Lute. You're really happy about his friendship with Lute. She seems like a strong and loyal friend, someone that can keep him grounded while still encouraging him to be more himself. Overall, you really liked her.

How they became friends though is something… less tasteful for you. All the way back when Heaven and Hell had their first meeting on what to do with the surplus of sinners in hell causing an uprising. Neither side came to an agreement in the end, you do feel partially to blame for that, but you still stand by what you did.

You never returned to any of the follow up meetings

But Adam did, surprisingly to you. In the end, you were called to talk with Sera and Adam. You were told of the agreement between Heaven and Hell, about the yearly “cleanse” that Adam and his “Exorcists” would have to commit. At first you were shocked, sure, you didn’t have the best experience with sinners and especially with the rulers of hell, but was death really necessary? You didn’t know what to say, and Adam clearly saw this.

“Babe, you alright?” He puts his hand on your shoulder rubbing his thumb in circles. You place your hand on his.

“Yeah it’s just a lot to take in. Are we sure it has to be done… that way?”

Sera looked down in pain “they’re… uprising and are becoming to much of a threat to heaven.”

You sighed as Adam took you in his arms. Adam was fully aware that you don’t share the same sentiment towards sinners as he does. His hatred towards the unholy souls down in hell was brought about by events that you simply cannot understand. Which he is thankful for, he never would want you to experience what he did.

“If there isn’t anything else we can do then… I guess we have no choice. But I don’t want to… kill anyone, even if they are sinners.”

Adam holds you closer “You won’t have to,” you smile at him, the now familiar flickering of his LED mask meeting your gaze before softly frown “you ok?”

You nod, “yeah, just…I wish there was another way.”

That was it. Adam would take his exorcists down to hell to kill as many sinners as they could each year. Adam knew you didn’t want him to talk about it , he kept it as separate as he could from your life. You did have to attend meetings regarding it, as one of the very few people to know about it, that was your duty.

You were fine with having that part of the job. You weren't sure if you could kill someone, sinner or not. So, for the countless years to follow, you played your part with every new extermination, attending meetings to deal with the repercussions of each cleanse.

Adam would also have to attend the occasional meeting. Which is exactly what today was. Sera had called you both in to talk.

“Thank you both for coming. I have to inform you that you will be attending a meeting tomorrow.”

Adam groaned “What! Again? This is like the 4th fuckin’ one this week! Ugh fine! Where is it this time? halo city? Cherub towne” Adam’s voice mocked the locations you’ve both been sent to countless times with a high pitched voice. Even you have to admit that the meetings could drag a bit.

Sera's face turned into a slight grimace as she looks away from you both, she sighs and continues “The meeting will be in… hell.”

“What!” Both your voices raise in shock

“Sera, you know I don’t want to go down there again!”

“Why can’t you just send the other fucking dipshits who know about-“ Adam crossed his arms defiantly

“Stop,” Sera raises her hand toward you both “no one wants to go there, and I know you both especially don’t.” She pauses “But you both are the only available angels who know of the cleanse that aren't busy. Please… I understand your disdain but heaven’s business comes first.”

“Who are we even gonna be talking to -Wait a damn minute- Don’t fucking tell me we have to talk to him.”

“I'm sorry…” You all sat in silence for a moment before Sera begins to speak again, “But you both won’t have to worry about physically being there, we have prepared holograms for you, so neither of you would be in any danger.”

“I'll have an Angel escort you to the ‘meeting’ room tomorrow, please, get some rest. I’m sure you both have had a long day.”

With that, you and Adam went home, you were definitely not feeling well about the meeting, but the fact you wouldn’t actually be there calms your nerves a bit. You had to be a little honest with yourself, hell wasn’t really the issue for you, it was more so the people. Lucifer for one, that made you feel uneasy.

The next morning, you and Adam got ready, you had to motivate him a little. He was clearly not excited for this meeting like you. The entire way there he held you close, even though nothing could have hurt you it made him feel better knowing how close you were.

On the way there, you also got Adam some ribs, his favorite. You thought it would help his nerves a bit. Turns out, Lute was the one Sera assigned to escort you both there. That also made you both a little calmer knowing a mutual friend would be there.

The three of you waited in the ‘meeting’ room for a while, about an hour. At first you thought the meeting might had been canceled or moved and you just weren't told. But then, Lute walked up to you both.

“Sir! The Seraphim has told me to inform you that there’s been a change in plans!”

“What? The fucks that mean?” Adam said stuffing a rib into his LED mouth

“Lucifer won’t be attending the meeting, instead… his Daughter will be here in his stead.” Lute’s mask showed a continuous frown and stern expression as she spoke.

“Daughter?” Your voice shook a little. This was news to you, as long as you’ve existed you had never heard he had a daughter while in hell. You look over to Adam to see His LED eyes were wide in shock but his mask turned into a smile as he sighed.

“Phew boy, we sure dodged a big ass bullet, huh Sweetcheeks?” He laughed as his arm pulled you closer. The whole thing caused you to join in. Suddenly your nerves felt a lot better than before.

“When should she be arriving, Lute?”

“Within the hour.”

Adam scarfed down another plate of ribs as you all wait for the “princess of hell” to arrive. The entire time you just had to wonder what kind of person she’d be. The daughter of Lucifer and Lilith. The more you thought about it, the more bizarre it seemed.

But suddenly your thoughts were interrupted by the sliding doors opening to the meeting room and a girl steps in, asking if anyone is there.

“She can’t see us?”

“Yeah, Sera gave me a long ass lector on how this stuff works before we got here. Let’s see here…” Adam pushes a button causing a click to sound out as he says “Sup!”

The girl jumps back and falls to the floor, shocked by Adam’s sudden appearance in the room. She introduces herself as Charlie. Adam offers her to shake his hand, only for it to go through.

“Ha! I fuckin’ got you! Did you fucking see that? Good shit.”

You let out a slight laugh, as you sit and watch the meeting happen. Well, you say “meeting” but nothing about it seemed very professional. Adam for the last hour (you honestly wasn’t sure at this point) had been talking about the most random of things.

You or Lute occasionally shakening your head yes or no while listening to him, while Charlie seemed quite tired already. Not that you could blame her, people who weren’t used to Adam’s banter definitely weren’t cut out for it. But You love every word that comes out of his mouth.

Eventually Adam decides that it’s time to get into what you all came here for. Pulling out a bunch of papers, Charlie begins explaining her solution to hell’s overpopulation. You were only really half listening at first, at least before she mentioned that her solution could stop the extermination which peaked your interest.

She explains her “Hazbin Hotel” and its purpose to rehabilitate sinners, you wanted to hear more of it but Adam cut her off.

The meeting didn’t really go that well, At least for Charlie. But the whole thing left quite the impression on you. The idea of ending the extermination was stuck in your head for so long, and now you had someone who had an alternative.

“Adam, are you sure that it couldn’t have worked?”

Adam looks at you in surprise “What? Do you think that shitshow could have actually worked?” He laughed as he placed a hand on your back. “Don’t even pay it any mind, alright Babe?”

“I know, it’s just… you know I don't like the extermination. So another way to lessen the population of hell should at least be looked into.” Your voice was soft enough to barely hear.

Adam’s gaze softened but he didn’t say another word, only wrapping his wing around you pulling you closer. You lean towards him, snuggling into his soft robe. No matter how much you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t. You needed to do something, anything.

So that night, after Adam fell asleep, you asked to talk with Sera. Leaving a note for Adam saying you went to buy something just in case he woke up.

“What is troubling you?” Sera’s voice was clear and concise.

You looked toward the ground, your nerves feeling tighter than ever, as you struggled with how to put your words together. “You're aware of all that happened in the meeting with Lucifer’s Daughter, right?”

Sera nods her head “of course, all meetings are documented about as they happen.” She tilts her head slightly “What about it?”

“Well!” You steel yourself before continuing “I would like permission to observe Charlie Morningstar’s ‘Hazbin Hotel’”

Sera’s eyes widen, breaking her calm demeanor before giving a firm “No”

“But-“

“It’s too dangerous for you to be there, Adam wouldn’t want that anyways”

“He would listen if it was an order from you!” Your eyes felt watery but you continued “Please Sera… I know you don’t want the extermination to continue. Just let me do this!”

Sera looked away from you, her feelings evident on her face, any mask now down. ‘Just a little more’ you thought

“Sera, I promise you, I’ll be careful! We don’t even have to fully support them yet, just let me observe them. It would be devastating if so many souls parish if we failed to seek all options!” You beg

Sera sighed, shakingly “…I’ll see what I can do.”

Your eyes gleamed up at the tall woman “Sera, thank you, thank you!” You wanted to hug her but out of courtesy, you advised against it.

Sera tells you that she can’t guarantee anything but she will try as she sends you home to rest.

A few days past after that and you haven’t heard anything from Sera. It was a little worrying and felt like a bad sign to you. That was, until you were informed by Sera that your request was accepted!

“But.” Sera stops you before you can celebrate “You're only there to keep track of the progress and to make sure nothing is happening under our noses” You nod your head in understanding

“Also…” she pauses “If anything involving this hotel happens, you will have to take full responsibility, understood?”

You nod again “yes I understand. Have you… told Adam yet?”

She shakes her head

“Ok… can you… not tell him it was my idea, please. I don’t think he’d agree if he knew.”

Sera sighs before nodding her head “Very well, I’ll tell him after you leave”

“Thank you.”

You return home, when you got back Adam was already gone, Sera must have already called him to the office. You dreaded when he got back. You didn’t want to see him upset, it hurt you to know how worried he was for you.

A few hours later, Adam comes through the door in a panic. He stomps up to you and pulls you into a warm and intense embrace.

“Don’t go down there. I need you here with me” his voice hitches as his wings wrap around you both, curling you both into a warm and feathery ball.

“Adam…” you paused, was this really the best thing to do? No, It had to be. If this goes well, not only will the extermination stop but Adam wouldn’t have to go down to hell ever again.

“Adam, you know I can’t go against Sera’s orders.” You kiss his cheek “and I won’t be gone forever, I’m only supposed to be there till the next cleanse. Not to mention, I’ll always come back to see you.”

Adam grumbled a little “I know, I just… don’t like you being in the same place that bastard is, and in his brat’s stupid hotel! ”

You laugh softly “Adam…” grabbing his hand, you put yours in it, showing off the gold ring on your finger “I’ll never forget my promise. You know that, right?”

Adam looks at the ring, the gold wrapped around your finger with a perfectly snug fit. Everytime he looked at it was just a reminder of your love for him. That promise was something he could never forget. He slowly raises your hand to his LED mask, kissing the back of it. “Of course not.”

“Good. I promise I’ll be fine, ok?”

He nods. Hand in hand, you slowly lead you both to the bed. The both of you lay next to each other, your bodies linked together like knots. You slwoly remove his helmet from his head, laying it on the nightstand.

Your hands move up his body before landing on his face, cupping his cheeks before pulling him to a kiss before snuggling into his chest.

Finally it was Time for you to leave. Sera allowed you to create portals back to heaven in case anything happened and you were in need of assistance. Adam walked you to the front gate.

“Ok, do you have everything? You didn’t forget that fucking angelic dagger I had Lute get for you right-“

You shush him “Adam, I told you I’ll be fine!”

He’s sighs “Damn it- I know that but just make sure to text me while your there ok-

You kiss him deeply “Adam. I know, you’ve told me a hundred times.” You smile as you cup his face “I love you”

He sighs “Love you too Sweetcheeks”

With one final kiss, you give Adam a tight hug before waving goodbye as you went through the flaming portal. As you went through, you take a second to look at your surroundings. In front of you was a tall building. You take a few steps back to see LED lights of a sign flashing the words ‘Hazbin Hotel’

You let out a sigh of relief. You had been a tad bit worried you’d spawn somewhere random and you’d have to find the building yourself. But it seems heaven at least spared you of that.

The red skies of hell were quite different from the pristine blue ones of heaven. Even though you just got here, you could already hear the sounds of screams and explosions in the distance. How welcoming.

You steel yourself and with three hard knocks to the door, you wait for someone to open it. Muffled Scurrying sounds of footsteps approach the door before it creaks open revealing the young blond woman in the doorframe, Charlie Morningstar.

“Hi! I’m-“

The door is slammed shut, Before opening again

“Be not afraid-“

It shuts again…

Well, this may be a bit harder than you initially anticipated. You go to knock again only for it to open once more. This time, the door doesn’t close again, instead the girl mutters a quick “Hi” before going quiet.

“Hello! I didn’t mean to scare you!” You give a small laugh before continuing “I believe we met a couple days ago?” You bring your hand towards her for a shake, to which she reciprocates.

“During the meeting with.. Adam? Right?” She grimaced when she mentioned Adam, which you decided to ignore, you simply smiled and nodded. ”but I don’t believe I caught your name?”

You tell her about yourself, about how your there to stay and monitor any progress the hotel may have. You made sure to pronounce ‘may.’ While you were hoping for this idea to show some kind of positive results, even you weren’t sure if it’d would work.

“Charlie? who’s at the door- WhatHolyShit-“ a woman with a red X over her eye suddenly shouts in surprise. You look over at her, She looked very familiar…

“Wait, you are-“

“Vaggie! Charlie’s sinner girlfriend! And you are?!” The woman known as Vaggie, highlighted the word sinner while performing a “be quiet” gesture with her hand. Your eyes widen a little at the ex-Angel in front of you but you simply smile a nod “I’m Y/n, I don’t believe we’ve met, yes?”

Look, lying is the last thing you’d want to do as a citizen of heaven but you figured that it would be fine if it was to protect someone. Vaggie nodded, her face scrunched up in a tense look.

“You feeling ok Vaggie? You’re looking a little… red?”

“I’m fine! *ahem*, Hun, how about you give them a tour of the hotel.”

Charlie gasped “Yes that's perfect, you may as well get acquainted with everyone if you’re going to be here more often!”

Charlie ran off, telling you “this way! This way!” Over and over. Before you went to follow her, you leaned toward Vaggie and said a quick “Relax, I won’t tell anyone.”

She lets out a sigh before muttering “Thank you”

You both follow Charlie as she shows you the various rooms in the hotel before leading you back to the hotel’s lobby and lounge area.

“Hey! Hello everyone!” Charlie’s voice picked up a little “I’d like to introduce you to our uh… new staff member?” You nod in agreement with the title. The room in front of you was shrouded in looks of both horror and amazement.

“What the hell’s an angel doin’ here?” A lanky spider demon spoke up first

“It’sss an ambush! seek Cover!!” The Snake demon shouted, seemingly grabbing an army helmet from thin air before taking a deep dive behind the couch.

“No Pentious-” She sighs “they’re here to monitor the hotel! Heaven sent them to scout any potential progress the hotel will have”

“It’s nice to meet you all” you look at the people in front of you, to say it was a colorful cast would be an understatement.

“These two are our current tenants of the hotel! Angel dust and Sir Pentious!”

The snake slithered slowly from behind the couch up to you, while the Spider demon remained rested on the couch

“Oh… *ahem* Excuse me dear! I am Sir. Pentious! Formally known as ‘the Architect of destruction’!” He laughs, a slight hiss sounding in his voice.

He offers a handshake which you accept. To which you immediately regret. ‘ Slimey’ you thought, before wiping your, now wet hand on your clothes.

The spider demon, who you now know as Angel Dust, just gives a wave with one of his 4 arms.

“And-“ Charlie extends the word as she quickly walk to a bar by the entrance “this is the recreational area, run by our Bartender, Husk!”

The winged bartender seemed entirely uninterested in your presence or even Charlie’s. The most you got was a small glance before he takes a swig of his alcohol and walks off.

“He’s not the most… social guy in hell” she awkwardly laughs before moving on to the next person. “And this is Nifty, our one and only maid at the hotel! Nifty say hi.”

The short woman scurried moved around you, her eye quickly looking at every every nook and cranny of you as she moved. She made numerous attempts to touch and grab various things on you, your clothes, wings, and eventually she tried to climb up you to get to your halo. That’s when you finally grabbed her in place “you're a… fast one, huh? Nice to meet you!”

“And last but not least! This is Alastor, the hotel’s executive producer and our first -and only- overlord sponsor!”

Immediately, you could tell there was something off about Alastor. The entire aura he gave off was as if he was restraining something completely and utterly ungodly. The static that surrounded him was just one of many whispers you could hear from his soul.

“Hello! It’s quite a pleasure to meet someone of your… holy status!” He offers a hand to which you, hesitantly, shake. “And what do we owe the pleasure for your service?”

“They’re going to be here to keep track of the progress of the hotel…” Charlie paused “you know I’m starting to sound like a broken record- here, it’s late, how about we all get some sleep and we can talk about it in the morning!”

“Fine by me, I am waaay too sober to be having social interaction this late” Angel picks himself up and stretches “I’m gonna hit the hay”

“Here I’ll show you to your room!” Charlie smiles “We -obviously- didn’t have time to make your own so I hope you don’t mind using one of the guest rooms” she laughs

She and Vaggie walks you to your new room before leaving you be, The room was nothing more than just your average hotel room. Of course it did have its differences, a multitude of… eyes seem to be on the wall, staring at you. Well, that’s not the least alarming.

You place your stuff down and begin unpacking, you mostly just brought the basics. Clothes, hygiene stuff, your phone, and, most importantly, a framed photo of Adam.

You sat the photo on your nightstand, angling it just right so that it would always be visible to you. As you do so, you think about the memory the photo brings, you took it on one of the first dates you went on with Adam. It was a relatively tame date, you and Adam, having a picnic by a lake at night. You brought candles so you both weren’t completely in the dark, and you just loved the way he looked, his golden eyes watching the water. The dim candle light illuminating his face with a warm golden shade. Adam hates photos of him with his mask off but… You just had to keep that moment in time forever.

*Ding* *Ding* *Ding*

Speak of the- well, you know the rest. The bright light from the phone comes with the notification sound displaying Adam in bold letters. You smile as you read his messages.

Dixkmaster69

Heyy Sweetcheeks, it’s been a bit since you left

You there??

Fucking answer

You let out a small laugh at Adam’s barrage of messages. He’s not used to you being away from him for more than a day, huh? Not that you could blame him, this is honestly nothing compared to how you feel each year he has to do the extermination.

Sweetcheeks

Hey love

Everything’s fine, I’m ok.

Aside from not having you with me :’(

Dixkmaster69

Fucking finally

You know you don’t have to do this

If I bitch enough to Sera I can get you back by tomorrow

Sweetcheeks

Please don’t, Sera already has enough on her plate.

I promise I’m going to be fine

I’ll be back before you know it.

Dixkmaster69

I know

This shit just worries me

Gonna miss hearing your sexy ass voice at night too ;)

You blush at the message before sighing. Whenever you or Adam approached a topic that made him uncomfortable, he would always try to change the subject to something that made him feel better. You knew why, Adam’s someone who rarely talked about his feelings, even after all these eons together that was something he hadn’t changed. You knew exactly what he needed, even if he didn’t explicitly tell you.

Sweetcheeks

I already miss yours too <3

Do you want to help me fall asleep with that heavenly voice of yours on the phone?

Dixkmaster69

Whatever you want Sweetcheeks <3

You smile when, almost immediately, Adam begins calling your phone. You click the lights off before You make your way in your new bed, not even bothering to change out of the clothes you’ve been wearing. You grab the cover and pull it over you and tapping the answer button.

“Sup”

You yawn “Hey handsome, I missed your voice”

You hear his voice hitch before he caused on “Of course you did, no one has a better voice than the dick master. But uh, yours is a close second”

You’re let out a tired giggle, “such a charmer, you. How’s your day been huh?”

“Oh! don’t even get me started on that- Lute took me to get some ribs to ‘calm my nerves’ or some shit and they had me, ME, wait in line for like 15 minutes! The fucking audacity!”

You smile to yourself as Adam tells you about his day, the sound of his voice was like a sweet lullaby to your ears and you couldn’t get enough of it. But eventually…

“And then when I got home, I couldn’t find my damn charger and it took me like 40 fuckin’ minutes to realize it was under our bed, do you have any idea of how it keeps getting there?” He waits for you to respond only to be met with silence. “Uh bitch, I’m talking to you.”

More silence… well no, actually if Adam focused on listening, he could hear the faint sound of your snoring from the phone. Adam sighs,”Long day, huh?”

Adam lays back in your shared bed, getting comfortable. He sets the phone beside him, plugging it in while keeping it on speaker. He yawns, “Goodnight Sweetheart, can’t wait to see you again”

Slowly, the soft sounds of both yours and Adam’s snores filled each others rooms, a distant, but intimate connection. Even in slumber, you couldn’t stop thinking of your handsome and caring soulmate.

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ohtobeleah · 5 months

Text

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Five:: [Why Do They Call It Love?]

Summary: Jake spends time with his side of the family and your kiddos in Texas. The lies quickly come to an end though when an overworked and overwhelmed nursing student makes the wrong call to your not-so-emergent contact.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Overbearing mothers.

Word Count: 5K

Author Note: The last chapter update before Christmas! EEP! It's one of the moments we've all been waiting for too.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It’s not too late you know—“ Jake watched as his father, the man who had many times throughout his childhood and teenage adolescents put his hands on him, poured himself a drink at the small but decent bar in the room Jake and his groomsmen were getting ready in. “To call this whole thing off that is.”

All Jake could do was press his lips together in a fine line of disappointment, he’d expected this. Hell if anything he was actually pleasantly surprised Rod had been able to hold off for as long as he could.

“I wouldn’t have asked Y/n to marry me if I didn’t want to marry her, Dad.” Jake sighed as he watched his father smirk and swirl his scotch around in the glass he held firmly in his ageing hand.

“You're not afraid of being reductive, are you son?.” Rodney Seresin was a hard man to understand, he showed little empathy towards others or emotion in general. Jake had never even seen the man drink anything beside single malt scotch. “I doubt you have more fear than the average asshole who decides to get hitched.” The almost self deprecating follow up did little to soothe the frown etched almost permanently onto Jake's face whenever he was around his father. “If anything you seem pretty fearless walking headstrong into a marriage that will surely end up on some poor clerks desk just waiting to be stamped as null and void.” Jake couldn’t find the right words to say as he watched Rodney take a swig of the amber liquor that would surely give the bastard liver cancer at some stage. But Jake mustard up the first few that came to mind.

“Okay, I think you’ve had enough to drink pops, you’re projecting your own fears about love onto me, on my wedding day.” Jake had a lot of big emotions about his father. Deep down Jake wanted him to be proud of the man he’d become, especially on his wedding day. But Jake also knew, after some pretty intense therapy sessions, that his father’s approval never really meant anything.

“Oh please, everyone’s scared of love dipshit—you learn that in your twenties, or at least I did anyway.” Jake's father grumbled as he went about pouring himself another drink. Only this time he reached for another glass to pour Jake one too. “It takes a special kind of lunacy to not be afraid of happiness and my boy do you fit the bill.”

“That’s so dumb—“ Jake scoffed, he wasn’t about to stand here and listen to a cranky old man project his beliefs, he’d done that all throughout his childhood whenever his father made comments about his mother only being good for two things. Those two things eventually evolved into three once Jake was old enough for the ‘birds and the bees’ talk.

“No you’re dumb and that’s exactly why you aren’t afraid of happiness.” Rodney huffed. “The smarter you are the more you know, happiness is a fucking trap that can’t and won’t ever last forever.”

“That woman out there is about to be my wife—“ Jake argued as he tried to contain his rage. The vein in his neck throbbed as he clenched his jaw and balled his fist to maintain his control. This guy wasn’t worth it, he never had been and never would be and the last thing Jake ever wanted was to be any way, shape, or form like his father. “You don’t get to tell me I won’t be happy marrying the woman I love, who I’ve been in love with since the first time I saw her. The woman, who mind you, is one of the most intelligent people I know, loves me for me! Without the goddamn last name or family values, she loves me for me which is something that you wouldn’t understand.” Jake would never forget this, that on his wedding day or all days his father felt it was necessary to get up on his soap box. “You’re unbelievable—“

“You really think that some aspiring author who’s biggest accomplishment is working a full time position at the local bookstore is the love of your life?” Rodney asked with enough conviction in his tone that Jake thought for a moment it was a genuine question—but as always it was used to mask a dig at your chosen profession. The real question was if Jake loved you for you, the answer would always be wholeheartedly.

“I’ve experienced more love knowing Y/n these last few years than you ever had with Ma and as much as I hate that for her I’m glad she doesn’t give two shits about you.” Jake argued, the anger had materialised across his face in a deep shade of red.

“Jacob, even if you consider this girl to be the love of your life It’s still going to end.” Jake stepped a little further forward to close some distance between himself and his father. The older man reached out to extend the amber liquid to his only son. The disappointment, the mistake. Jake reluctantly accepted the vessel. “It's inevitable, whether it be by the slow pull of disease, or the shock of loose footing on a hiking trail.” Rodney grumbled on as he eyed his son down trying to make a point that this day for Jake would eventually be as meaningless as his existence. “Or perhaps in your case it’ll be the corrosion of two different personalities that reshape each other until they’re no longer compatible.”

“You’re just a cranky old bastard aren’t you?” Jake couldn’t think of anything else to say to his father as his groomsmen filed back into the room all laughing and ready to lead Jake out to the ceremony.

“Maybe, but I’m a bastard with a point—happiness always ends.” Rodney smirked. “Think about it, the best case scenario, son, is that you both die at the same time.” Jake felt like he couldn’t breathe as his best man slapped his hands on his suited up shoulders. They’d just gotten back from their own first look with you. Some still had tears in their eyes. You were just that beautiful.

“You ready man? It’s time.” Jake looked down at the drink in his hand his father had poured him before he took the entirety of the amber liquid he hoped one day would be the reason for his father’s demise in his mouth. The eye contact between father and son never broke as Jake swallowed without a fuss.

“As I’ll ever be.”

***~***~***~***~***~

The Oncology ward was never your favourite place, hell it was never a place you thought you’d have to frequent, but the copious amounts of Christmas decorations that lined the halls and boarded the nurses station, put a smile to your weary face. Those decorations hadn't been there the last time you met with your oncologist to discuss your treatment plan. That meeting had felt like a lifetime go, but in reality it was only a mere few weeks.

“Okay so this is your room.” One of the nurses that had helped admit you as a patient to Rhode Island Hospital oncology ward smiled behind you as you and your mum carried your bags into the room. “Try to make yourself at home, we find that the more homely people make their room the easier the stay is.”

She was young, fresh out of college and still had those brown baby eyes that looked like they just wanted to save every person she came into contact with. High hopes that would soon come to realise that in life you couldn’t save everyone. Lydia was her name, or so the badge credentials that hung from her scrub top told you.

“Will do.” You smiled, nothing would make this easier. Nothing about this entire situation was or would be easy.

Lydia left you and your mother alone to settle your things, knowing you were about to spend a your holidays couped up in a hospital room made your heart ache for the holiday memories where your children were opening presents under the tree as you and Jake drank coffee spiked with Baileys at six am in the afternoon.

The ever looming crisis of impending death always made you wonder if last Christmas would be your last Christmas with your little family. It made you wonder if you’d ever get to spend a holiday like this with them again. Lucy and Lennox would turn seven in February, Samuel would be three in August, it dawned on you as you placed your toiletries in the bathroom, would you get to see your children grow? Watch them fall in love for the first time, learn new skills, develop into adults, get married, graduate. All the things you wanted to see as a mother.

“Where do you want me to put these?” Your mother called out as you turned around to see her holding up a string of multicoloured Christmas lights. You frowned at the woman who had been there for you through thick and thin with her childlike mannerisms and christmas cheer.

“Mum, why do you have Christmas lights?” You sighed softly like you were trying to be brave and take all of this on the chin.

“I thought that the least I could do would be to help decorate your room, you are in here over the holidays afterall, why not spend some time decorating while you can?” She beamed as she took you under her arm and wrapped her arm around your shoulders. “Brought you a little Christmas tree too.”

“You didn’t have to do that—“ You appreciated the festive atmosphere though and knew over the coming days that you’d appreciate the warmth even more. Right now though all you wanted to do was sleep.

“I know, but you’re my baby—“ She whispered back softly as you both looked around the blank space, the sterile environment that was about to be your home for the next three weeks at the minimum. “So I reckon we put them all the way around the room.”

“It’s gonna look like the first season of stranger things in here.” You chuckled which quickly turned into a throaty cough your mother frowned in worry over, but you reassured her you were fine once you caught your breath. “I’m fine, promise—“ The world felt off for a split second. Like tunnel vision was threatening to take you hostage out of nowhere–a blackening darkness loomed behind your eyes as spotted fragments came and left in the space of a few seconds. “Woah, that was a little odd.”

“Sweetheart?” Your mothers eyes nearly popped out of her head when she realised what was happening. “Do you feel okay?” It was a hard question to answer, it always had been. But right now it was harder than ever.

“I’m a little light headed, why?” It wasn’t anything unusual, but with the way your mum was staring at you like you’d just grown another head from your shoulder made you think it was something more serious. “Mum?” Something was off as you stood trying to figure out what was going on, your body felt weird, like a tingling sensation had tickled its way across your skin.

“The left side of your face is drooping.” Your mother explained as she put the lights down on your bed. “Your cheek is–”

“What?” You asked nearly in disbelief at her reaction to face slightly drooping opposed to your right. “What are you even talking about?”

“I’m getting the nurse, I think somethings wrong, I think you're having a stroke.” This couldn’t be happening, what more could life throw at you? First a breast cancer diagnosis and now a fucking stroke? “Stay here.”

“I’m literally admitted! Where do you think I’m going to go!” Your voice followed your mother out towards the nurses station as you tried to take a few steps, that’s when you realised though that the entire left side of your body had gone numb and tingly. “Oh god—“ Panic soon set in as you took a seat on your hospital bed. Tears flooded your eyes as an immense wave of anger and despair erupted out of your soul.

This wasn’t fair. None of it was.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Dad!! Push me higher!” Lenny laughed as Jake pushed him on the swing set in the backyard of his family’s home.

“Any higher and you’ll do a loop around man.” Jake chuckled but he obliged by his son's wishes and gave him a little more of a chesty send off when the swing carrying his son came back his way.

More of the Seresins spending Christmas and new years at home had since arrived and the festivities were well and truly underway. Jake watched as the sun set below the rolling hills along the horizon as his mothers festoon lights illuminated the back deck. They reminded him of Penny’s, the ones that always made the Hard Deck balcony seem so much brighter.

“When mum told me Y/n wasn’t coming this year I thought she was lying.” Jasmine called out as she made her way across the backyard to where Jake stood playing with his two boys. Sammy sat by his leg fixated on the tonka truck Jake swore was gonna leave the biggest bruise on his shin if the kid kept ramming it into him. “What’s going on with you two?”

“You know—“ Jake groaned, he was just about over the question as much as you were. Everyone knew, it wasn’t a secret Jake kept close to his chest. He knew he fucked his marriage up, he knew he was the problem. But it didn’t help when everyone asked what was going on between the pair of you over and over and over again.

It was like opening up an old wound over and over again. Watching the infection spread, watching the tissue decay and slapping a gauze on it hoping that it’ll heal in time.

But as you pointed out, time didn’t always heal old wounds and you were still very much healing from the damage Jake had caused when he lost focus and sight of the things that mattered most to him.

He didn’t realise you were gone until you had locked the door behind you and taken the key.

“I just thought it was a rough patch. I didn't think you guys wouldn’t spend Christmas together.” Jasmine Seresin was the youngest daughter of all the Seresin Siblings and Jake's most fearsome protector. She was always in his corner ready to go into bat for him just as much as Jake was for her. “What’s she doing anyway?” Jake assumed it was because of their close age gap, Jasmine always said it was because Jake couldn't throw a solid punch to save himself.

“Uh she’s going on a trip to Banff—“ Jake continued to push Lenny on the swing set his uncle had built over thirty years ago. It was a ridiculous thing with its over the top attachments and its stainless steel finishing. The slide used to burn the crap out of your ass if you went down the thing in the midsummer Texas heat. But it was still good as it was the first day Jake and his sisters took it for its very first spin. Now he was a dad, pushing his son on that same damn swing he cried on when he scuffed his knee playing tag. “Some friend's trip she was invited on.” Jake wished he knew more but he never wanted to pry. You had a private life now he wasn't privy to. “She hasn’t really told me much about it and I didnt wanna ask in case she thought I was being controlling.”

“Oh.” Jasmine had to stop herself from saying what she was thinking straight off the top of her head, but Jake knew her better than that. He could practically see the cogs in her brain twisting and turning and working together to formulate her next opinion.

“Say it—“ Jake encouraged. “Go on, I know you want to.”

“It’s just Banff can be awfully romantic this time of year and all.” She shrugged. “I wouldn’t want to tell my ex husband about a new fling that’s taking me to Banff for Christmas either.”

“I wonder how the conversation will go when she tells that guys she fucked said ex husband the night before she flew out then.” Jake smirked as he pushed his son a little higher to hear his screams of joy as Jasmine cupped her hand over her wide open mouth. “I don’t think there’s a guy.”

“Holy shit you two are so getting back together.”

“If mum had it her way I’d be divorced six ways till Sunday and have an open day down at the church for potential candidates she approves of.” Jake couldn’t have rolled his eyes any harder as Jasmine groaned and rubbed her temples.

“You’re her baby boy Jake, she’s obsessed with you—god she never did like Y/n all that much did she?”

“Nah—and I honestly think this whole separation has just made her delusional self more delusional.”

“I don’t want you two losing sight of the love you have for each other because of a rough patch.” Jasmine nearly warned as she bumped Jake's hip with her own. “You're too pig-headed sometimes.”

“Funny, I’ve got a wingwoman who says the same damn thing.”

“Sounds like my kinda gal.” Jake had to scoff at the idea that immediately popped into his mind. Phoenix was very much his sister's type and he knew that.

“You tell mum about Racheal yet?” What Janeen Seresin didn’t know about her youngest daughter was that she and her husband Eric, who stood grilling away with Jake's father, had recently decided that monogamy just wasn’t their thing. Racheal had started off as a babysitter for the couple's two kids, ten year old Stacey and eight year old Lewis. When Jake found out that Jasmine was bisexual he didn’t blink and eye, but he did spit his beer all over Rooster when she told him she and Eric where both happily fucking the nanny. Sometimes together.

“Are you fucking kidding me? She’s already on the verge of an eruption over one of her kids on the brink of no fault divorce, could you imagine what would happen if I came out at the family Christmas party?” Jake just chuckled and shook his head pretending like he didn’t already know it would end in disaster. “I’d meet our ancestors Jake, all the way back to pre colonial times my guy, you’re my scapegoat right now.”

“Happy to be of assistance.” Jake just laughed at his sister's chaos. He watched with a smile half the size of his face as she turned to walk off. Not before she turned around and gave the most obnoxious salute she could have.

“Appropriate your service, Lieutenant.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“Your daughter’s going under for a procedure we call a thrombectomy to remove the suspected blood clot from inside her artery.” Your mother sat in the waiting area of the emergency surgery floor she’d been escorted to once you had been whisked away. “Luckily for her we caught this so early she should have practically no defecates depending on how the surgery goes.”

First your separation, then your breast cancer diagnosis and now a stroke, what more could you possibly have to deal with.

“What caused it? She's been rather sick the last few days, throwing up, not sleeping, eating.” Your mother explained to the resident who had come out to update her on your status. “She's already dealing with so much.”

“Unfortunately this isn't uncommon in young woman who go through severe bouts of stress, i've read your daughter's file and its safe to say that the clot was probably due to her current oral chemo, plus a combination of high stress from the diagnosis, her blood pressure and her bodies inability to sustain proper nutrients, it's a perfect storm for these sorts of things.” It made sense but the explanation didn't make the outcome of the situation you were facing any easier for your mother to handle. “Rest assured your daughter is in really good hands and the fact she was already inside the hospital when the stroke started to manifest itself means her chances of a full recovery are rather high.”

“But now she’ll just live long enough to slowly deteriorate and be taken by the cancer, won't she?” Your mother wouldn't ever admit it to you, but the phone call where you told her that you had been diagnosed with Stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma, was one of the worst days of her life. The first being the day your father and the love of her life died far too young far too quickly. “My daughter is strong, Doctor Phillips, but she's just one woman, how much is she expected to be dealt before she gives up.”

Doctor Phillips, the resident who had been tasked with updating your mother, just flashed her a look of sympathy laced in professionalism that truly showed a testament to her ability to not let her own feelings get in the way of her patients and their families.

“Let's take this one step at a time, Miss O’riley.” She added politely before saying goodbye and left your mother to sit in silence watching the clock tick, although she didn't take her eyes off the clock on the wall for a mere second, time still felt like it stood still while you were on that operating table.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

The day had been long, overdrawn, and full of mindless family drama over dinner on the back deck the first night Jake and the kids were in Texas. One night down only.. “Oh God–” Jake groaned as he finally let his head rest on the pillow and realised he would be here for a full two weeks before he could escape the family he never wanted to be anything alike.

The kids had gone down relatively easy with little to no tears, Lucy was a little upset that you never called like you said you would and Jake was slightly concerned that you never returned his calls or texts. However he also understood you didn't owe him a damn thing and for all he knew, you were still up in the air, on your way to the very beginning of what he hoped would be a fantastic kid tree trip. You did after all deserve some time away.

Jake had thought quickly on his feet before the tears could start though, he told Lucy that you had said you'd call in the morning because you knew that you'd keep her up far too long. He just hoped as his own head hit the pillow that you would in fact call in the morning.

Ten o'clock seemed rather early to be heading off to bed but Jake needed to reset his mind in order to be able to handle his family for two more weeks. He needed at least a solid eight hours before his sister Abigail joined in on the festivities for tomorrow with her own family. Jake was the only Seresin sibling this year without his partner present and god did he feel like the black sheep.

What really cemented that fact he was the family disappointment was when his father had handed him a beer and said the only thing he’d spoken to Jake the entire time he’d been home. A quick, monotone “I told you so son, happiness never lasts.”

His childhood bedroom hadn’t changed a single bit. As Jake laid in the twin bed he lost his virginity in, he listened to the baby monitor that kept a watchful eye on his three kids just down the hall. Little Sammy was sound asleep, Lucy and Lenny thought they were in the clear but they were up talking about whatever it is young twins talk about late at night while they’re visiting their grandparents place.

Jake wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep but the sound of his phone going off on the small bedside table surely woke him up in enough of a frazzled state to know it had been a few hours, long enough for his body to truly settle into a deep state of rest.

“Fuck–” Jake growled as he reached up for his phone. “The fuck is–who the hell is–” Jake grumbled as he sat up in the twin bed and tried to remember where he knew that area code from as the unknown number illuminated his phonescreen. “Hello?” It was a last minute decision to answer once Jake had actually seen the time, two thirty in the morning to be exact.

“Hi, would I be speaking to Mr. Seresin?” Lydia asked politely on the other end of the line, she sat at the nurses station on the ass end of her double shift. A double shift she wasn't supposed to be working. She couldn't feel her feet with how badly they were throbbing, her eyelids were far too heavy to keep up and she hadn’t eaten since noon yesterday, but her patients came first. Lydia Hudson was determined to be the best nurse she could be and that included updating your emergency contact on your post-op recovery.

“This is he.” Jake replied rather roughly into the phone as he held it to his ear in the darkness of his childhood bedroom. His voice was an octave deeper than it usually was with how tired he was.

“Hi Jake, this is Lydia calling from Rhode Island Hospital.” It took Jake's brain a moment to catch up to his heart as the women on the other end of the line spoke, but it caught up soon enough. “I'm just calling to let you know how your wife went in her emergent surgery, it seems as though we were able to retrieve the clot before it could cause any irreparable deficits.” Jake frowned as he ran his hand over his face, he wasn't sure what the hell he was listening to but his heart was hammering inside his chest. “There doesn't seem to be any critical deficits at the moment, she's on some pretty intense pain medication but we’re hoping that it won't interfere with her upcoming Mastectomy and chemotherapy sessions.”

“Im–I'm sorry, do you have the wrong number?” Jake questioned. “You said my wife?”

“Y/n Seresin?, I’m so sorry if no one had updated you sooner, but while she was setting up her room in oncology she suffered a moderate stroke we think was brought on by the–”

“Oncology meaning?” Jake was beginning to break out in a sweat as his heart raced. No, no you were supposed to be on a plane to Banff, you should have been in Calgary by now.

“The cancer ward–?” Lydia replied. “Mr. Seresin you do know your wife was admitted for stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma, right?” Lydia frowned as she read over your notes again trying to understand why the man she had just called, your husband, didn’t seem to know a damn thing about your situation. “She was just put through admission today when she–” Lydia paused when she saw it, your actual emergency contact. It wasn’t Jake Seresin who was listed as your emergency contact on your paperwork, but your mother who was currently sitting at your bedside watching your chest move up and down post your operation. “Oh my god–”

“Y/n—“ Jake couldn’t make sense of what he’d just been told. “Has cancer? My wife Y/n has cancer?” Jake had to say it out loud for the realisation to kick in. “She has cancer? My wife had a stroke? What the hell is–”

“Mr. Seresin I’m so unbelievably sorry but I can’t share any more details with you under HIPAA, I’ve just realised you weren’t listed as your wife’s emergency contact.”

“She has cancer? My Y/n has cancer?” The vomiting, the flu that Lucy said you had had for weeks now, how tired you looked, it all made sense. “Oh god—“ Jake felt the tears spilling down his cheeks as he jumped out of his childhood bed and hit the light switch. “No, oh god no.” He felt like he was going to throw up as he rummaged through his duffle for a clean shirt and shorts. “How long has she known?” The call, the need for Jake to take the kids, the way you wouldn't even give him a chance to right his wrongs, divorce…. “How long has she known for?”

“I’m so sorry Jake, I can’t share any more details with you.” Lydia apologised before she began to panic and hung up the phone, leaving Jake in his newest existential crisis.

Jake had to go, he had to get back to you, why the fuck would you not tell him this? How long have you known? How long did you have left even? What was your prognosis? Jake had so many questions that were left unanswered as he changed and grabbed his wallet. He was booking the next available flight back to Rhode Island as he shoved all his stuff back into his duffel bag.

The kids would have to stay—oh god the kids. Your kids. No. No this wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be. Jake felt his heart racing as he silently cried in the middle of his childhood bedroom. His hand came to cover his mouth, minimising his cries to a silent but painful whale. He couldn’t lose you like this. What did that nurse mean when she said you had a stroke?

But out of everything Jake had been told he knew one thing for sure as he tried to pull himself together off the floor and get back to you as soon as he could.

That there never had been a Banff trip planned.

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional l @jessicab1991 91 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove ve @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog @goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus

#was it over? // jake seresin #tw: cancer #tw: stroke #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin fic #top gun fanfic #maverick top gun

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

Note

AITA for being condescending towards an asexual kid in GSA?

🙃🏳️‍🌈 to find later

Long post so buckle up.

I (17, they/it/he) am one of three co-leaders of my school’s GSA, along with R (18, she/her) and N (17, he/him). All three of us are openly bi, and I’m also openly trans and (most importantly) very loudly aromantic. We’re all in 12th grade now but we were leaders last year (in 11th grade) too. The school/GSA is small enough that all four grades (9–12, so around 13–18 years old) are in the same GSA, there’s no separate upper grade and lower grade groups. We also have two advisors, both cis queer teachers; and some younger queer faculty members also join sometimes for formal events. We take turns running events during club time, such as fun crafts or watching music videos. Sometimes we also do educational stuff or documentaries, including having teachers come in to facilitate discussions.

I’ve been planning (since early December) to run a two part series of discussions about asexuality and aromanticism (separate discussions of each). I really just wanted to do one day about aromanticism, but R said that if I did that, people would derail it and just talk about asexuality anyways, which both N and our advisors also agreed made sense. So, it’s two days, and the asexuality one is first so that the aromanticism one can be closer to Aromantic Spectrum Awareness Week (ASAW).

There’s a girl in GSA, let’s call her A (16, she/her), who’s in 11th grade. She’s very socially awkward and if someone points out that she’s accidentally said something rude or offensive she’ll make a big deal out of not knowing and generally derail the conversation. Also, two years ago A made a ton of “jokes” about me and my little sibling (16MtF) being “secretly dating.” When I asked her (politely at first) to stop, she said she was just joking around, and kept doing it. I asked her again and also asked the theatre teacher and school counselor for help, and eventually she did stop. But A kept following me around and trying to be friends with me, and I was super uncomfortable to the point that I asked the school counselor to facilitate a conversation between A and I so that I could ask her to fucking stop. It somewhat worked. Now she still keeps trying to start conversations with me in the hallways and such, but I just brush her off or ignore her.

The one place I can’t do that is during GSA. Since I’m a leader, I have to be civil to everyone and actually talk to people (R, N, and I set norms at the start of the year during our planning meetings). A is asexual but not aromantic, and today she showed up like 5 minutes into lunch (cafeteria lines are annoying) and loudly asked if she was late. We weren’t doing anything in GSA today, just chilling. At some point during the meeting I announced casually that next week we’d be discussing asexuality, and then the week after that we’d talk about aromanticism, which leads nicely into ASAW during February break. When I said this, A immediately said that she would be extra ace that week [during ASAW]. I was like, “during aromantic spectrum awareness week?!?!” in the same tone of that “during pride month?!?!” meme. She looked like someone had just given her an F on the most important test of the year and said she hadn’t known.

I also made a comment about how there’s way more openly aspec people at our school than at most schools, and N said that maybe the presence of role models is part of that (clear subtext: he was referring to me). I said pretty loudly (more people could hear) that it was kinda funny that I’m the “ace role model” when I’m literally not asexual. A looked super lost and confused at this, and I think she might’ve thought I was ace, even though I’m super open about not being ace, and have told her directly more than once.

Here’s where the potential assholery comes into play. There’s an ad for PrEP that was fairly common on the back covers of theatre playbills in the past year. The ad shows a Black man dressed in ripped leggings with fishnets, shiny knee-length heeled leather boots, and some sort of white leather harness, doing a bridge pose with one leg extended upwards so that the “r” in PrEP is resting on the sole of the boot. The ad has a bright red background and text that says “you cast of PrEP options is changing” along with a small QR code and website link. The pose is somewhat provocative, but not out of place on a playbill for an all-ages show.

During GSA, A was saying that she thought the ad was bad, because of the leather being “fetish gear” and “weird” (basically the same arguments people use to say that gay people shouldn’t be allowed in public). I told A that there’s nothing wrong with someone wearing leather, and she said that “it’s fetish gear and that’s disgusting and degenerate and just bad advertising!”

I explained calmly, like I would to a child (although I probably wouldn’t talk about this topic with a child), that PrEP is a medicine that people take if they anticipate having sex with someone who’s HIV-positive, so it’s okay that the ad is somewhat suggestive. She seemed to accept that, but still said that the leather was weird, and the ad should’ve shown “a diverse group of people getting pills at a pharmacy” instead, because “fetish gear” was too much.

I asked if she thought that all leather clothing was inherently fetishistic, to which A said yes, and then I asked, “do you know that people can’t just choose fetishes?”

She hadn’t known that, but she still said the ad was too sexual. I pointed out that it was a fairly well-targeted advertisement, using theatre references, but maybe A was not part of the target demographic. I also said that sometimes outfits are just hot without there needing to be any fetishes involved, which she didn’t refute, and that even if it was a fetish, that wouldn’t make it inherently “bad” or “degenerate” at all.

A said that she still didn’t like it, and I told her that she was entitled to have whatever feelings she wanted to have, but that doesn’t mean the advertisement itself is a problem.

Another person (17, he/him) called out “[OP], what do you think about kink at pride?” in a sort of nonchalant way, so I walked over while saying “i’m pro–kink at pride.” The conversation eventually moved in other directions, and then club ended and we had to go to our next classes.

TL;DR: given my position of power and responsibility as a GSA leader, AITA for being kinda condescending towards an ace person who’s 2 years younger than me because she was being very sex-negative about an ad for PrEP?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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agendabymooner · 10 months

Text

mamma mia (again) ! daniel r. x ofc (måneskin member! ofc)

“they ask me why i’m so hot, ‘cause i’m italiano.”

summary: a series of video clips, but it’s only just danny ric being in love with a certain lester alessandro.

content warning: hint or two of suggestive comments (nothing detailed or graphic), use of explicit language, filler blurb or something, danny being a simp for few videos straight (“have my kids” type beat), lester being an etsy and pinterest enthusiast, literally posted this blurb from my phone so they’re crazy about their image limits 😩

note: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE 105 FOLLOWERS?! UHM? seriously, i’ve never been so happy. i honestly only started posting these because i have them ingrained in my brain and won’t let go until i write or make something. just indulging my imagination you know? enjoy xx

masterlist

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐁𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐑𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐏

【VIDEO ONE — daniel ricciardo is a gatekeeper】

[1st image: yeah, i dunno. everyone just found out that i made it official with my girlfriend and i’m pretty sure i just saw lando weeping in his room. max was the second to react to it and i’m so sure he recoiled. he did say that he didn't want to know what happened in imola few months ago.]

[2nd: interviewer: what happened in imola few months ago? daniel: *chuckles* wouldn’t you like to know - nah, i’m messing about. nothing happened in imola besides from me retiring to my bed early. i think we were both drunk when i posted that photo and i know it looks lewd but there's no way we could've done anything questionable.]

[3rd: d: but yeah. we didn't really want to catch that much attention until maybe i don't know... when we're married or something *chuckles* i: keep it a secret until the wedding? d: yeah. but charles, the absolute fool, posted videos during the concert with me in the background. It would've been real nice if no one caught onto it until we had a mini ric running and racing, you know? just to wreak havoc.]

【VIDEO TWO — daniel ricciardo talks about lester’s love language in his gq video】

[1st: i got this journal from lori. it has my initials "DR" on it for daniel ricciardo*laughs* it's one of those many first gifts that i’ve gotten from her throughout our first few months of dating. her love language isn't just shitting on my life -she has every single aspect of love language within her and this is one of them.]

[2nd: when she gave this to me, all she said was "you can write out your thoughts if you can't let them out through your mouth. *giggles* "she clearly had her thoughts sorted out that time especially when she showed me a page with an embossed phrase or nickname, "tasso di miele" - it means honey badger. she apparently bought the custom embosser from etsy and almost fought tooth and nail just to get it in time. *laughs even more* i love her so much, i honestly wanted to cry that day.]

[3rd: lori actually has a laptop with *laughs* itunes on it and she still got some playlists from 2010-2014? yeah. she’s put a lot of old taylor swift songs in my ipod during the christmas break. my favourite album right now is speak now. she loves red.]

【VIDEO THREE — lester hates ashy hands confirmed】

[1st: daniel: i think i should just cover my hands with gloves all the time. lando: that literally has nothing to do with anything that we're about to do. d: lori tells me that my hands are rough whenever she holds them.]

[2nd: l: or you know... you can just use a hand lotion all the time because your hands dry up real fast? d: ah that's true. i wonder if that's why lori just casually put a bottle of hand cream on my travel bag. the thing smells nice though. it’s chamomile.]

【VIDEO FOUR — it’s okay to spoil your partner; even if it’s an accent chair from her pinterest board】

[1st: d: lori just sent me a picture of an armchair from ikea. l: why was she randomly in ikea, by the way? I saw the text. d: window shopping. but anyway, she saw this armchair that she had on her pinterest board. she asked "pretty or no?" with the green velvet chair. l: what did you tell her?]

[2nd: word to word? I texted her "LOL you should see the accent chair I've gotten you for our flat in monaco." l: are you serious? *laughs* d: she wouldn't tell me what she wanted for her birthday. I only got a brief idea when she left her phone in my pocket once and gave me a free access to her pinterest boards.]

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devotion · 1 year

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only you | p.p

summary: peter needs you after his patience snaps.

w/c: 1.1k+ | p.p masterlist

warnings: swears? tiniest bit of angst, fluff (should fluff really be a warning tho?)

prompts: kitchen counter make-outs | “i’ve had a terrible day at work so just kiss me”

notes: when i read this before continuing this wip after so so long, i realised that it was inspired by a spidey/venom comic i read in march/april so... idk which one it was but hopefully you don’t need much context. also, i love (v)eddie, but for the purpose of this blurb.... i do not. (i do.)

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peter’s hot-headed, irate and enervated whilst a throbbing headache troubles him.

there are a number of conspicuous changes in his behaviour that you notice instantly when he’s like this; along with his clenched jaw, his fist closed into a tight ball has his upper arm bulging out of his t-shirt, and one specific vein more prominent than ever, you would go out your way to consider that this attitude in some way is lewd. but not when he has the super-strength to punch through the wall with his bare hands and you both have to suffer the consequences of it.

it’s more than evident when you see the steam emitting from his ears, as his figure storms through the front door. peter’s composure only seems to settle the slightest bit when he turns around to lock it. his arm then rests on the doorframe, followed by his head.

he comes through to the living room of your usually humbling home that you two share, rips his bag off his shoulder and throws it off to the far end of the room, whereupon you hear a tear from behind him as he does so. a series of cracks sound after his bag hits the wall. it makes you cringe badly.

by the looks of it, not only has he tore the wallpaper, but he’s cracked the wall behind.

peter, realising what he’s just done, begins to blurt out to apologise, “i-”

“—no. just... water first,” you cut him off, leaving to the kitchen to fetch a glass.

rubbing the back of his neck as he pads to the kitchen, he sees you fill it with the water filter once he’s there. your eyes dart towards him in the doorway, moving to go get some ice from the freezer.

you’re surprised he’s simmered down so quickly, but you know him best — he isn’t one to be enraged for too long. now that he’s caused damage to the wall in the living room, he definitely shouldn’t be anyway.

when you give him it, he’s relocated to the counter behind you, accepting the glass when you offer him it.

peter mumbles a thank you before drinking, then waits for a moment or two for you to meet his gaze. after downing it whole, a hand finds yours, causing you to look up. he maintains eye contact whilst he starts with, “i’m sorry, baby. i really am.”

your eyebrows raise to indicate that he explains further. his shoulders slump.

“he’s pissing me off,” he admits, voice tremulous, “so so much, y/n.”

“who?” you squeeze his hand.

“you know...” he replies, before you squint an eye, tilting your head ever so slightly to indicate that you, in fact, don’t know. “eddie...” peter comes out with before he sighs, “it’s eddie.”

your mouth turns in an ‘o’ as he hands you back the glass. he’s mentioned a friend that he’s known for a long time, but the problem is that he’s become somewhat of an adversary as of recently. a walking havoc, new york thinks, and a hulking and distorted version of your boyfriend’s alter-ego.

“he does everything he can to show me that i’m some kinda wimp to not have done anything about kasady,” he observes in annoyance, “in every. possible. way.”

“he’s gonna let it go some day, pete,” you try to convince him, to no avail since he begins to roll his eyes and replies with, “it’s been 3 months. he’s even got a job at the bugle.”

he contemplates loudly, “he killed him though, so what’s left?” he laughs before shaking his head, “stupid bastard.”

“weren’t you once friends with said bastard?” you tease.

“and i fought tooth and nail to get him away from me when he sabotaged everything we had: our trust.”

and with that, peter’s reminded of the relentless ordeal he's having to endure with eddie. it must be the nonsensical alien in his mind.

“no way am i letting you talk to him.”

too late. you met at a party weeks ago.

“wasn’t fucking gonna anyway,” you huff, having no intention to in the first place, “he’s like a smidge hot but he’s not...” you move your hands in an attempt to try to explain what you’re about to say, mouth fumbling for the right words, continuing instead with: “you know, a hero, if you will.”

“yeah,” he smirks mockingly, tongue clicking against his cheek, “hero, my ass.”

he thinks about the thing that’s nagging him, one that eddie confessed to him just half an hour ago. he trusts you, with everything and anything, but the image of eddie sweeping up your feet torments him.

you’re noticing his demeanour again, shifting to what seems to be more angry, “that bad, huh? i—”

“—he likes you!”

startled, your eyes meet his — seeing him look down and away; poor peter thinks that you knowing that will ever change your feelings for him, that eddie has a chance with you. it’s all a ruse. why would you ever think of doing so, when you have the paragon of a boyfriend right in front of you, in your heart and forevermore?

then your hands proceed to his shoulders to gain his attention, letting them rest there before you rub them.

“peter, i know.”

“look, i don’t li- wait... what? how?” his eyebrows relax, eyes softening. it was stupid thinking you hadn’t bumped into him yet.

there’s a few moments of silence as he gazes at you, unnecessary insecurities gnawing at him briefly before he lets it go to ask in a whisper: “why didn’t you tell me?”

“because he means shit to me, sweetheart,” you urge, “i don't have an ounce of love for him, i don’t see him that way.”

the jealousy vanishes into thin air as you say that, leaving him feeling feeble-minded that he ever even thought about eddie with you. you continue to reassure him, “better yet, i’ve never really thought about it. you shouldn’t either.”

“fine,” he nods, sighing, “i’m so-”

“stop apologising, pete, just... forget about it, it’s okay.” you bring his head towards your chest, and he nestles in the midst of it.

all until he grabs the underside of your thighs, spinning you a hundred and eighty degrees so your bum sits comfortably on the counter.

he beseeches you, “i’ve had a terrible day, though, so just please... please kiss me.” he pouts. “tell me i’m yours, baby.”

your palm rests against his cheek, grinning, “you’re mine, pete. always have been, always will be.”

when your lips meet his, he smiles into it instantly, the ache in his heart recovering. his arms embrace you whole as he leans into you, desperate, and you taste nothing but the burning kick inviting on his tongue. it tells you only one thing, which only you’re able to discern as such.

you pull away, wiping the moisture that’s evident next to his mouth. “upstairs?”

he nods fervently.

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weirdkpopgirl · 26 days

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Adoration | Mark Imagine #7

Title: Adoration

Genre: Tooth-rotting fluff

Warnings: none really :)

Word Count: 612

Author's Note: Lol this idea came to me after seeing a clip of Mark on a video call fansign, where he was telling the fan that he's currently watching Queen of Tears. This made me so happy because I've also been watching the drama and feel so passionately about it. Anyway my mind started to wander and this little scenario came out of it. I tried my best not to include spoilers of the show in the story though. Thank you for reading and hope you like it ^ ^

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Frustration brewed in your eyes, as heat rose to your cheeks, while your heart was pounding. Your fingers curled further into your palms, as unkind words traveled to the tip of your tongue. Yet, before they could be vocalized, the dark-haired man on your left said them instead.

“No, but why did he do that though?!” Mark yelled, throwing his arm out in a gesture to the screen.

A part of you wanted to laugh at your boyfriend’s reaction to the final scene playing out on the television before you. Since the premiere of Queen of Tears, you and Mark have been avidly following the series together. However, you were a few episodes behind due to Mark’s busy schedule and your commitment to watching it together. It took considerable restraint to avoid looking at spoilers on Instagram or YouTube.

On the other hand, the equal measure of anger within you overpowered any sense of amusement. A louder-than-intended sigh slipped past your lips.

“Ugh, I hate Yoon Eunsung so much for trying to ruin Haein’s family,” you fumed, gripping the remote. “I swear, I just knew he was going to use that tactic to sabotage them too!”

Mark leaned back on the couch, echoing your dissatisfaction. “I know right? You were so on point though with predicting that it was gonna happen.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean I’m happy that I was right!” you exclaimed, sounding as if you were almost about to cry from annoyance.

Any hint of exasperation Mark was feeling simmered down, as you continued to vent about the episode. Now that he observed you passionately recounting every prediction you made about the characters’ actions that had had occurred in the episode. Your hair was slightly tousled, and your hands gestured animatedly, emphasizing your frustrations. This was a rare sight from someone who was usually so composed and reserved.

Your shoulders slumped when you caught the distraction in his eyes, prompting a look of confusion from you. “Mark, are you even listening to what I’m saying?”

“No, I am babe,” he reassured with a chuckle. “I’ve just never seen you this fired up before.”

Your expression softened, and the flush on your cheeks transitioned to one of embarrassment. His comment brought to mind your tendency to get overly passionate about certain things that provoked you.

“Sorry, I just got so worked up,” you mumbled, sheepishly brushing a loose lock of hair out of your face.

However, Mark was quick to pull you into his arms. “Don’t apologize, I think it’s endearing.”

His embrace was so warm and loving, it felt like he was wrapping you in all the adoration he had for you. Yet, it made you just want to hide your face in his hoodie because you were still flustered.

“Well I’m grateful you’re more reassuring than Baek Hyunwoo is,” you said, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Seriously, I’ve never seen so much miscommunication in a relationship before.”

You felt your boyfriend smile, pulling back slightly to stroke your hair. “And I’m glad you’re not as closed off like Hong Haein.”

“Hey, she has every right to be—” you started to protest, before catching yourself.

Mark nearly convulsed with laughter as he crashed you into another hug. “Ah, cute!”

Feeling embarrassed once more, you lightly smacked his shoulder, though it did nothing to stop the boy from gushing over you. But you couldn’t help but smile too, finding warmth in the moment. Both of you knew that the upcoming episodes of this drama would only bring more stress. However, at least you could share your frustrations openly, while all Mark could think about was how infatuated he was with you.

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previous masterlist -> current masterlist

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year

Text

𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐌𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐰 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 5.3k

chapter summary: You and Joel spend the night together.

warnings: piv sex, oral sex, breath play, dirty talk, fingering, spitting, cockwarming

Chapter Eight || Chapter Ten

You know these walls too well - they're thin as paper, carrying every sound from one room to the next. You can still vividly remember waking up to the sounds of your grandparents' murmurs and footfalls in the early hours of the morning when you and August were just kids. Sound travels easily when you aren’t careful. Both you and Joel had been cautious climbing up the stairs. August was still in the shower. You can make out the steam billowing from under the bathroom door like a fiery dragon with sharp teeth.

You close the door silently, Joel right behind you. He’s seen your room before but it feels different now, having him here. The air that surrounds you is heavy with tension and blurted out confessions. You didn’t think much when you invited him upstairs. All you knew is that you didn’t want to part from him. You wanted him to stay. Finding it too difficult to face him, you tentatively walk up to the window, your fingers curling around the edge of the curtains with the intention to close them.

You can't help but think about the way his room is just across from yours. On your second day of living here, you noticed that your room looked directly into Joel's. It's like you're connected by some invisible thread. Tommy had stopped by later in the day, offering to show you around. You didn’t really need him to show you around. You already knew these parts well. But you accepted his kind offer anyway, knowing that the other man just wanted to get to know the new neighbor.

Joel creeps up behind you. His body firm and strong, his heat suffocating, his presence enough to crush you into nothingness. You notice the curtains to his bedroom are drawn tight and your stomach churns with something unpleasant. Joel traces a path down the delicate fabric of your dress with the back of his fingers, his touch following the gentle curve of your spine. You lean into his touch. The curve of your ass brush against the front of his jeans, and you can't help but let out a breath, the sound echoing through the quiet room. Your heart beats so loudly in your veins that you're sure Joel can hear it too.

“This is going to sound creepy but I always hated it when you closed the curtains.”

“I’ve never had a stalker before. It’s sweet.” he teases, kissing your shoulder. “Did you look into my room often?”

A puff of air escapes through your nostrils, “I wouldn’t say often. Just on days I felt lonely. It was more frequent when I first moved in, though. You were so cold to me back then.”

“I had to be,” he murmurs, his voice sounding almost in pain. Guilty. “I was tryin’ to keep away from you.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

You do. It’s more clear to you now. You think of all the times when Joel felt like nothing but a grumpy neighbor. Back then you had no inkling that his unpleasant mood had anything to do with Tommy. You also weren’t aware that Tommy wanted you in any way else but a friend. Guilt gnaws at your insides—you should stop this right? You should tell Joel to go home and wait until one of you explained the situation to Tommy. The younger Miller was contempt to be your friend, but would he be as understanding if he learned you were screwing his brother? You’re pretty postive that’s a big no-no in the brother handbook. Your thoughts wander to August. If the two of you fancied the same person, and said person chose him…you would want him to come clean right? It would be better compared to the alternative: Tommy catching you on Joel’s lap.

A chill settles at the end of your spine. You ignore the sudden excitement coursing through your veins. This isn’t quite the moment to be exploring what kinks you may or may not have. Almost angrily, you yank the curtains closed and turn to Joel. You throw your arms over his broad shoulders, pulling him close.

Joel hums. His hands move up the back of your thighs, your skin prickles with a mix of excitement and apprehension. You feel the fabric of your skirt gather and lift, revealing more of yourself to him. Calloused fingers follow the swell of your ass. He feels the lace with his fingertips, tracing the patterns. It tickles. You feel a dampness collecting at the seam. Joel leans in, and you’re half convinced he knows the mess gathering between your thighs as he brushes his lips against yours.

“This feels like a dream,” you whisper, eyes fluttering closed.

“It’s not, sweetheart. Hey, look at me,” And you do. His pupils are blown wide like he’s taken every drug on the planet. Your pulse quickens. You feel the warmth of his hand envelop yours. He places the tingling limb against the front of his pants. You apply pressure. Feeling the thickness through his jeans. “See? You can feel me, right? Feel how hard you make me. I’m all flesh and bone, darlin’. Real. This ain’t no dream you’re gonna wake up from.” he lets out a deep, shuddering breath. “So if you want to stop, better tell me now.”

You look into his eyes. You know that he means it. You know that if you show even a hint of reluctance, he would stop, no questions asked. He’s a good man. You can tell he’s trying very hard not to avert his gaze so you don’t think that he’s lying. Your heart beats steadily, every slow pump loud and deafening in your ears. Lifting your hand, you cup his cheek. His reaction is imminent. You feel the scruff of his cheek scratching the inside of your palm. The chafe alone to rising goosebumps over your warm skin. Somewhere you hear a clock. In his eyes, you see Dali’s Persistence Of Memory; colorful clocks melting away like cheese. Time is fleeting. Crumbling away. You’ve never felt that notion as strongly as you do now. As if the world is coming to an end soon; your body reacting and trying to warn you—SEIZE THIS MOMENT BEFORE IT’S GONE.

Tears prick at the back of your eyes. Your steady heart now beating a mile a minute. You’re having trouble understanding what’s happening. Joel is here. He’s not going anywhere. You’re not going anywhere either. So why is your body reacting like it’s about to cease to exist?

“I want this,” you gasp, voice quivering. “I don’t want to stop, Joel. I don’t want to waste any more time.”

“Neither do I, darlin’.”

Joel strips you slowly, stealing kisses as he lowers the zipper at the back. His fingers dance over the exposed skin and slide up to your shoulders. He pushes down the straps of your dress. Your breath catches in your throat. Joel doesn’t allow the dress to fall, instead, he holds it gently and pulls it down, kneeling as he does so. You feel his lips on your bare thighs. He moves up to your clothed sex and presses his lips against the mound, inhaling your scent. Arousal builds sticky and wet underneath the fabric. Your legs start to tremble, prompting Joel to grip the back of them, steadying you. He makes his way up leisurely. Kissing your stomach, the skin above your sternum and following a path to your neck.

By the time he reaches your lips again, you’re begging him to touch you. His name a prayer exhaled from your lungs. His tongue follows the seam of your lips and as you open up for him, he undoes the clasp of your bra. It falls to the floor softly, joining your dress. He takes a deep breath, nostrils flaring. Joel presses into you, his large hands cupping and kneading your breasts as he shoves his tongue deeper, groaning into your mouth. You mold into each other. He leaves no room to breathe, suffocating you, his tongue sliding over yours. You’d happily die in his arms.

Both his thumbs simultaneously swipe over your peaked nipples and you break away. The sudden flow of oxygen makes your world spin. He’s still hungry for you. Dipping into your neck and sucking the sensitive skin. Your head falls back, his one hand slips to your back, holding you.

“Let me taste you,” he mutters.

Joel falls to his knees once more. A sign of worship. He slips his fingers under the elastic of your underwear, pulling down the fabric. You hiss when the cool air chills your soaked folds. He hums in approval, his eyes glued to you as your underwear joins the pile of clothes. Mesmerized, he pushes to fingers between the lips, stroking your clit and feels your growing wetness.

“Shit, sweetheart. What a pretty cunt. This all for me?”

“Yes,” you swallow audibly and he smiles, his eyes meeting yours. “All of it is for you, Joel.”

Numerous nights you have thought of him; his fingers, his tongue, his cock. But none of it—none of it could’ve prepared you for the actual thing.

Your knees buckle at his first taste of you. He squeezes your thighs, smoothing his palms over your tight flesh. You can’t help it though, you’re shaking like a leaf. Joel doesn’t seem to care. In fact, it looks like he enjoys how quickly you submit to him. He groans into your cunt, tongue delving deeper between your folds as his nose nudges repeatedly against your clit. Every stroke of the warm muscle a pRickling sense of pleasure that sears your skin.

You whimper, “J-Joel—I…It’s t’much. I can barely stand.”

His eyes flicker upward to meet yours. Mouth still buried in your pussy, wiggling his tongue as you coat his chin with slick. He observes you for a moment. Takes in your heavy gaze, your parted lips, your sweat-soaked skin.

Joel briefly removes himself from you, a string of saliva following his lips. You swallow.

“Fine,” he rasps, his drawl heavier than usual. “Lay on the floor.”

“W-What?”

Immediately after you’re tripping backwards, his hands coming around you to cushion your fall. You can't help the giggle that escapes your throat.

“Joel, there’s a bed right there.”

“Later,” he murmurs and dips into your heat again. “I haven’t had my fill of you yet and I’m out of patience.”

There’s something wildy erotic about being on the floor, spread out for him. Like a tired warrior finally collecting his spoils. He pushes your legs over his shoulders, saliva-filled mouth hovering an inch away from your pussy. He breaths heavily, watching you pulse and drip. Joel spreads you with two fingers, pointed tongue swirling around your clit before he dips lower, stroking and massaging you with his mouth. Your head falls back, pleasure raking over your skin. Joel is still fully clothed. You love being exposed to him like this. So needy, and bare, and open. He takes it, happily—takes every part of you and cherishes it. It almost makes you want to cry. He’s so willing. And he’s making you feel incredibly good with his mouth. He’s lost in you, and you’re lost in him.

“Does it feel good?” he groans, not bothering to look at you. Despite him not being able to see, you let out a whimper and nod frantically. He nips at the skin right under your pubic bone. “Tell me it feels good, honey.”

“It does,” you choke out with a strangled moan. “God, it feels so good. I think—”

I love you—

You cut off before the words can spill. You can’t. Not now. Not when you just got him. You blame the heavy fog that settles over your brain. You feel for him, this much you both know— but your feelings can’t be that strong yet. It’s just the hopeless romantic in you that wants to take control.

You’re not sure if Joel fills in the blanks of where your sentence was leading to. Your thighs bracket his face, soft flesh closed over his burning red ears. The only indication that gives you a hint that he heard you is from the way he groans and tilts your hips up, pushing his tongue into the tight ring.

A loud gasp rips from your throat. You nearly scream his name, covering your mouth at the very last second. You’re positive he noticed that. Heat coils under the soft flesh of your stomach. He wiggles his way deeper, pushing, pushing and pushing. His mouth moves languidly between the slit. A gentle caress from his lips. You grip his head, back forming the perfect arch as you start to grind down, chasing your lingering orgasm.

But then you lose him, and you nearly sob.

“No,” he says, his voice scratchy and deep. “Let me make you come. I want to explore you, sweet girl. Want to see what makes you tick.”

“B-But—”

“Do you trust me?”

You dare and look down. His eyes are rounder, charcoal pupils eating at the color of his eyes, dilated with lust. Swallowing thickly, you nod. You catch his mischievous smirk as he dips back down between your legs.

Before you feel his mouth again, without warning he purses his lips and spits—loudly. It lands on your clit, the gentle force of it making you jump and hiss between clenched teeth. He starts rubbing your clit, wickedly, and when he’s satisfied with the extra shine of your pussy, he spits again. Seeing him makes your eyes roll back, a string of spit connecting him with you. Your chest heaving, you feel another gush of arousal rolling down your sensitive skin. He’s unbelievable. You’ve never expected him to be so raw and visceral.

“My pretty neighbor all spread out for me,” he groans, rubbing two fingers over your aching clit. The sudden pressure makes you jolt. “God, honey, I could just spend the rest of my days between your legs. Tasting you, watchin’ you go stupid for me.”

You garble out something inaudible. Joel grins and lowers his mouth, swiping his tongue over you before looking up again. “What was that?” he teases. “I couldn’t quite catch what you said?”

You swallow and lick your lips, your mouth drier than sandpaper. “Mouth.” you say, the rest of the words dying on your tongue.

“Mouth?” he grins. “Mouth where?” your breath catches in your throat when instead of feeling him on your throbbing pussy, you feel him against the inside of your thigh. “Here?” he asks. “Or…here?” then he presses his mouth above your mound, taking in a deep breath. “Oooor—”

“Fuck, Joel stop,” you snap, tugging at his hair. “My pussy. I want your mouth on my pussy—Please…”

Time slows. His gaze moves to you languidly, flitting across your face, taking in the state you’re in. He reaches out, swiping a tear that had unknowingly escaped the confinements of your lashes.

“Okay,” he whispers, the trace of cruel mocking gone. “You look so pretty right now. You know that right?”

He says it so earnestly that, despite not truly believing it, you nod. This seems to comfort him because his swollen lips close over your clit, sucking hard. A moan rips from the back of your throat. Your nails biting into his scalp. He sucks again, tongue lapping at the sensitive nub rapidly. His name falls from your lips. Your legs trembling as it frames his face, the burn from his beard a pleasant one. He moves down and pushes his tongue inside you, fucking you with it. Two fingers deftly circle your clit—It’s too much. He’s giving you everything, all at once. Spit drips down to your chin, your mouth dropping wide with no noise.

Heat rolls in your stomach, spreads all across your body. Your skin prickles and your walls start to flutter, squeezing his tongue.

Your orgasm rips away from you. It’s violent, lingering over the line of being downright painful. Your eyes snap wide, panic flares in you when you realize all those voices you held back started to bubble from your lungs and move up your throat. Your vocal cords shaking with a need to shout. Your nostrils flare, your lungs expand, his name is on the tip of your tongue, about to burst. All the while your orgasm still rolls over you, leaving you dizzy and aching between your legs. But before your fear of your brother hearing you comes into reality, Joel clamps a hand over your mouth, his heavy palm muffling the voices.

The strokes of his tongue become softer, slower—sweeter. Like cool velvet on your burning skin. You exhale through your nose, the remnants of your orgasm fading. Your breathing evens out and his hand moves to cup your cheek, thumb stroking the skin gently. He kisses the swell of your stomach and you whine at the loss of his sinful tongue.

“Wow,” he croaks, making his way up your body. His lips glistens with slick, his mustache damp. A lazy smile blossoms on your lips. “You taste amazing. Best thing I’ve tasted in my life.”

“I guess dinner wasn’t good then.”

He chuckles, wet lips brushing over yours. “That ain’t what I meant, sweetheart. Your chicken was great.”

“I’m glad.”

You slightly shift to get more comfortable, and when you do, Joel let’s out a strangled moan. With a look of mischief, your smile shifts into a grin. He’s embarrassed, his eyes dropping to your chest instead of holding your gaze. A beautiful shade of red spreads out from his chest and darkens his neck. Still smiling, you lift yourself and press your mouth into the crook of his neck, sucking the sweat-soaked skin tenderly.

“Joel?” you ask and he hums, eyes fluttering closed. “Do you want to fuck me now?”

He grunts, “God, yes.”

“Do you want to move to the bed?”

Joel mulls over your question for a moment. His chin shifts to one side then the other, then, with a shy smile, he meets your gaze.

“I—” he clears his throat. “I kinda like it…being on the floor. If that’s okay? I promise after that we’ll get on the bed.”

Your smile never faltering, you nod. You’re happy you’re not the only one enjoying the instinctiveness of being on the floor. His hands skim down your body, one finding purchase between the curve of your back and the floor. He gently cups your hip, pressing his fingers into the flesh. “Are you uncomfortable?”

“Not at all.”

He’s been waiting for that answer because as soon as you give it to him, his hand is between your bodies, unzipping himself with one hand and pulling his cock out. You salivate when you feel the heavy weight of him over your stomach. A bead of precum sticks to your skin, he rolls his hips, smearing wetness over your lower abdomen. You sigh blissfully, head falling and your legs parting to accommodate the width of his hips.

Sitting back on his knees, he slowly touches his cock, watching your pliant body overcoursed by tremors. With a deep sigh, your eyes drop to his length. It shouldn’t surprise you that he has a pretty dick. Your mouth waters. He’s thick, and the thought of him stretching you makes you clench and drool all over the carpet underneath. He’s definitely been blessed and you keen at the sight of him poking through his jeans. His palm swipes over the head, coating himself in a sheer amount of precum. Soft, dark curls crown the base. You imagine yourself taking him between your lips, feeling him throb deep within your throat, constructing your breathing.

With a soft moan, your fingers trace the slit of your sex, you’re so wet.

“You’re temptin’ me to just come like this,” he coos, stealing the air from your lungs.

You change the subject, eager to see more of his sunkissed skin, “Aren’t you going to take off your clothes?”

“Later,” he dismisses again, aligning himself with your entrance. You feel the tip of his cock and shudder.

“Oh, you like this hmm?” you purr, watching his brows pinch together with confusion. “You like having me all naked and vulnerable—completely at your mercy, while you’re still fully clothed, only your dick out—ah,” you pant heavily as he starts to fuck you with just the tip, working you open. A smile tugs at his lips. “Don’t worry, I love it too—god, I love it so much. I love opening up myself to you, Joel. I wish I could rip my chest open and show you all of it.”

He doesn’t answer with his words but with his body instead. He burrows himself into your space, his mouth finding yours in a sloppy kiss. Tongues and lips moving haphazardly, a confession of sorts. He sinks into you, inch by inch. His weight presses down on you, and you feel a familiar tingle spreading from your toes to your spine. He breathes praise into your skin. Telling you how good you feel, how well you’re taking him. You accept the whispered words with an eagerness that surprises even you. Your arch into him, body bending in a way so that his cock slides further in.

You wrap your arms and legs around him, pulling him closer as he fills you up completely. It’s overwhelming. Your walls flutter to accommodate to his width. Hot breath ghosting down your cheek, he decorates your face with delicate, fleeting kisses.

“Can I move, sweetheart? You feel so fuckin’ good.” he accentuates every word with the slow roll of his hips. “I’ve thought about you like this. So many times.”

“You have?”

Joel takes that as his cue to start moving, his hips grinding against yours in a slow, steady rhythm. The warmth between your legs spreads throughout your body, and you can feel yourself getting lost.

“I have. But none of it could compare to the actual thing.”

His hands roam over your body, tracing the curves and valleys of your skin as if he's trying to memorize every inch of you. You arch your back, offering yourself up to him, and he takes the invitation eagerly. His thrusts become harder, faster. You wrap your hand around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss. This time you’re the one to slip your tongue into his mouth, tasting him and pulling his bottom lip between your teeth. He groans into the kiss, hips stammering forward. His chest heaves.

Joel breaks the kiss to bury his face in your neck, breathing heavily as he pounds into you. You tighten your grip around him, urging him on. A moment later he’s pushing your legs up, hamstrings stretching and thinning. It aches. Into your skin, he’s whispering that he’s close, and it’s followed up by frantic apologies that dampen your neck. Your nails bite into the muscles of his back. You breathe heavily through your nose, biting back moans. He’s drilling into you, a sensation akin to being split in half warming your body. With every snap of his hips, you pulse around him, clenching and squeezing him tight as he fucks your next orgasm out of you. It’s too much, too sudden, and you’re crying. Silent tear pools down from your lashes.

Joel hears the way your breath catches in your throat and moves away only to press his lisp into your eyes. He’s still sputtering out apologies, telling you that it’s okay, that it feels so good and that he has you. Warmth blossoms in your chest and you melt into the floor, your body only for him to use.

With a high pitched sound dropping from his lips, Joel pulls out. His movements sloppy and eager, he rubs his hard length over your mound, the head catching against the swell of your stomach. You shudder when he groans, it’s raw and animalistic. He coats your trembling body with his seed, warm and wet, dripping down and staining the rug. You let out a stuttering breath and Joel leans in to kiss you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, lips brushing your hairline. “I wanted to last longer.”

You smile, nuzzling up to his neck. “That’s okay,” you answer. “I take it as a compliment. Nothing more sexy than someone being so into you that they lose a bit of themselves, right?” Joel nods, knowing well what you meant. You press your lips against the bald patch of his beard. He smiles. “Besides, you can make it up to me. If you really want to.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he groans, dipping down for another kiss. “You can't even begin to imagine the things I'm about to do to you.”

A soft orange light caused by a street lamp nearby trickles from between the curtains. The light forms a sharp streak from between the windows to the bed. Your clothes glow golden on the floor, alongside with Joel’s. It’s late. The sky a shiny black as the rest of the neighborhood sleeps soundly. It’s been long since August’s bedroom door echoed closed into the night. Joel had his hand pressed tightly against your mouth. Your nostrils flare with each breath. Your stomach sinks into the matress, his hips slowly rocking into you, soft, wet sounds making your skin prickle with pleasure. His body a comfortable weight above you, screaming comfort.

“Such a perfect cunt for me to fill,” Joel breathes into your ear. You shudder, a muffled moan bouncing against his palm. He clicks his tongue. “So noisy. I’m startin’ to believe you want to get caught with all the trouble you’re makin’ me go through to keep you quiet.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, your hips jerking to meet his slow thrusts. A sharp exhale leaves your nose. You’re burning all over, sweat clinging to you like a second skin. He grinds himself deeper, pinching your nose with his thumb and forefinger, you jolt only for Joel to shush you.

“I think I just hit the nail on the head,” he mutters. Your chest expands, your lungs starting to burn and head growing dizzy. “Fuck—Sweetheart, you’re squeezin’ me so tight. You want the world to hear don’t you, how much you love takin’ me? So perfect, so so perfect. I love fuckin’ you nice and slow.”

You pulse around him, soaking him as slick trickles down your thighs and wets the bed. Your eyes roll back and your body juts uncontrollably. The lack of air adds pressure to your temples, but it feels so good. You want him to control everything like this. You want him to be in charge as you roll about life, only to come back to him.

He removes his fingers, oxygen filling you once more. His palm is still heavy over your lips. Joel drags his nose up the frame of your face, gently nipping the skin above your cheekbone.

“Jesuus,” he groans. “Did you come, darlin’? Just from that?” he sounds almost delirious, joyful. His strokes become faster, harder. You squirm underneath. Joel’s hand moves up from your mouth to your hairline, pushing sweat-soaked strands away from your forehead. His lips touch your cheek. “Such a needy thing.”

You close your eyes and breathe heavily through parted lips, a half smile curving at the corner of your lips. You were needy. You don’t ever want to let him go. You want him to hold you like this until the end of the earth.

You want this night to last forever.

It’s the early hours of the morning. You stir awake with hands gripping tightly at your waist. You blink away the dampness of your eyes. The street lamps are turned off, the sky now a muted, grayish blue. Joel’s hands skim down your body, still reaking of sex and sweat. Your ass is bare, and he caresses the warm flesh. His cock is heavy and hard, pressing between himself and the small of your back. You sigh, rolling your hips. He lets out a choked out sound, his lips now touching the back of your neck. It feels like a dream; laying naked with him here. It’s a beautiful thing. Exquisite.

“You can’t sleep?” you ask silently, afraid to disturb the approaching day.

“Too many thoughts,” he grumbles accompanied by a soft movement from his hips. You let out a sigh.

“What thoughts?”

He wets his bottom lip, “Borin’ stuff. But the main focus is always how I want to bury myself into this here sweet pussy of yours.”

“You have quite the mouth on you, Mr. Miller,” with a smile, you shift and turn to him. His hand falling to your waist. You don’t want to think of what these “boring stuff” were. But you do have a sneaking suspicion it was to do with You, Tommy…Sarah. He’s thinking of all those who might get hurt by this, or affected. In all honesty, you don’t think Sarah would mind, but then again, you don’t really know much about her relationship with her mother. Being the nice neighbor is one thing, being in a relationship with her father is another.

“Hey, where’d you go?”

Blinking, your gaze meets Joel’s. He smiles and his thumb comes up to swipe the skin under your eyes. Where he touches burns. You mimic his expression and smile back, then you shake your head.

“Nowhere,” you answer. “I’m right here. And what you want can be arranged, you know?”

He hums, eyes dropping to your chest and pebbled nipples. “Can it, now.”

Joel cups between your legs, middle fingers sneaking between your soaked folds. He tenderly circles your clit. “You sure you aren’t too sore?” he asks.

“Hmmm, I don’t think I can handle you fucking me into oblivion again, but I can most certainly warm your cock. Help you sleep.”

“What an angel.”

You bark a humorless laugh. “Yup, that’s me. Miss angel, right here.”

“You’re thinkin’ about him aren’t you?” he asks, pushing a finger in. You suck in a breath, your body starting to shake. Joel massages your walls, working you open as his gaze searches for something in your eyes. “You’re not alone in this. I hope you know that. He’s my brother, if anythin’ I should be the one takin’ the weight of this. Not the other way around.”

“That’s not true. We’re both responsible about what might happen,” you sigh, heat licking the base of your spine. His lips brush your forehead as he pulls out his fingers and them with the head of his cock instead. You shuffle closer. “I think I’m just scared. This is all so new. Losing you is the last thing I want.”

“You ain’t gonna lose me,” he quickly says. “And we don’t have to tell anyone right now,” he adds with a whisper. He fills you, and it’s the most glorious feeling in the world. You throw your arm over his shoulder, pulling his chest flushed against yours. A faint pain blossoms between your legs, you moan at the feeling. “It can be just this. We’re in no rush.”

You have so much more you want to say. But you don’t. Instead you revel in the feeling of him inside, pulsing, and throbbing. He so close that you can hear his heart beat. He’s right, there’s no need to rush this. Maybe a weak later you would return to just being the woman that lives next door, who’s to say? There’s no need to stir anything in your already chaotic lives.

Joel nuzzles your neck, kissing the hard interior. He rests his forehead there, taking deep breaths of your scent. You want to move closer —if possible— but you’re afraid that when you do, you’ll won’t be able to hold yourself. And you’re enjoying the feeling of him inside too much to want this to end.

“Better?” you croak out, playing with the damp ends of his hair. He nods.

“It’s way better,” he murmurs, voice deep with sleep. “See you in the mornin’ neigbour.”

“See you in the morning.”

a/n: wooooo we got a new moodboard! Isn't that exciting??? I also have another one I made for a specific arc that'll last a couple of chapters but other than that, this one will probably be staying until the end so I hope you like it!

Also I'm stupidly happy to finally be writing smut for these two dfvfdvbf no one warned me that writing a slowburn would be essentially edging yourself lmaodfvdf many more horny chapter are to come! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and if you have any questions or things you want to see happen, let me know! Sending kisses and hugs to the lot of you 🧡

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #young!joel miller #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x platonic!reader #hbo the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #stay in bed

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littlespacereader · 25 days

Text

I haven’t regressed for a while because you know, life sometimes gets in the way. But I finally got a moment after class to have the rest of the evening off and just regress. At first I was worried I wouldn’t be able to regress after a stressful day at college. Then I literally was two second into a Blue’s Clues episode with Steve and suddenly I’m a baby😂 Steve just had the magic touch🥹💞

I felt inspired to write a cute fic with him and a little reader. I’m actually thinking of making a mini series of fics with a little reader in a kids show. What do you think? Would you guys like something like that? Let me know😄

So please enjoy another “side quest fic” I didn’t plan on writing😂💞

Looking for Blue’s Clues🐾

Caregiver!Steve Burns & GN Little!Reader

Tags - scavenger hunt, Steve is the most gentle and patient CG ever, hand holding, hugs

I held my head up high as I walked through the woods, stuffie in hand, backpack on my shoulders, wandering around on my own little adventure. I needed this, just some time away from the busy and hectic working world. I just needed some time outdoors to regress in peace.

And that’s what I did. All my supplies shoved into my backpack, my favorite stuffie in hand, I am ready to go! I started on a trail, following the winding trail through the thick woods. I’ve been on this trail before, it’s calm, quiet and peaceful. Perfect for a regression day.

As I kept walking I noticed something with my usual trail. The trail split into two pathways. One, the usual path, went right and down towards a river. But now there’s a left path, a path that’s never existed before. Maybe the parks department decided to make a new path for everyone?

There was something deep down inside of me that filled with excitement for the new adventure. I looked to my stuffie in hand, “What do you think (stuffie name)?”

Though they didn’t outright say it, I knew my stuffie wanted me to go forward towards the adventure.

“You’re so right! New trail it is!”

The path wasn’t very different than the other trail, though it did go deeper into the woods. But there was a clearing up ahead, I could see there was a colorful neighborhood with a yellow house.

A blue dog ran infront of me, stopping me in my tracks. She began talking to me before she skipped away. I smiled to myself, a blue dog?! That’s a first!

Suddenly out of the corner of my eyes I spotted something. On one of the tall trees next to me is a blue paw print. I walked over and looked at the print and smiled. Why would there be a blue paw print here? Did that dog leave it behind?

“A clue!”

I quickly turned around to be greeted by a man in a stripped green shirt. He smiled, happy to see me as if he knew me his whole life.

“You found a clue!”

“A clue?” I pointed to the blue print.

“A blue’s clue! Great job! You’re very smart.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the praise. “Thank you, but I wasn’t even trying.”

“You weren’t trying to find blue’s clue and you found it anyway? You’re better at this than me! Wow!” Again, the stranger glowed with praise.

“I’m Steve, it’s so nice to meet you.” He put his hand out to shake.

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you too.” I gladly shook his hand.

“Now that we have our first clue, we gotta put it in our handy dandy notebook!” Steve pulled out his notebook from his back pocket, popping the crayon out from the top and flipping to the first page.

He stood along side me so I could see what he was drawing. “So our first clue is a tree. We’ll start with two big lines for the trunk of the tree, then we’ll draw smaller lines on the top for the branches, then we’ll make this curly lines for the leafs at the top of the tree. There, a tree.” He looked up from his drawing to smile back at me.

“Our first clue is a tree. So what could Blue want to do tonight after dinner with…a tree?” He asked me.

I began thinking of all the possibilities a tree could mean. What does his dog want to do tonight? “Maybe she wants to play fetch with one of the branches of the tree?”

Steve hummed in agreement, “Good idea, maybe she does watch to play fetch. But we have to find the other clues to be sure.”

I nod my head in agreement but I can’t help but ask. “How many clues are there?”

“There are three clues. Once we find all three clues we sit in our thinking chair and think, think, think. Because when we use our minds, we take a step out of time and we can do anything that we want to do.” His smile is utterly contagious because I smile just as big as him.

“I’m really going to need your help to find the other two clues. Will you help me find them?”

“Yeah!” I practically jump saying.

“Really? Thank you! You’re the best! Now, this second clue must be around here somewhere…Lets go this way.” He hold his hand out to me as a silent offer.

I appreciate him not being pushy or just grabbing my hand. It was an invitation if I wanted it, so I took his hand in mine. Together we walked to the yellow house I saw earlier.

Steve opened the door and lead the way into his house. It’s beautiful with its peach tone wallpaper and big red chair in the living room.

“That’s the thinking chair,” Steve pointed out, “Once we’ve got all three clues we’ll sit there and think.”

Then it was off to the kitchen to further find a clue. Inside on the counter top is a family different spices.

“Y/N,” he squeezed my hand, “I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Salt and Mrs. Pepper and their children Cinnamon and Paprika.”

I couldn’t believe my eyes as the Salt and Pepper shaker waved and talked to me.

“Bonjour Y/N! Welcome to our home!” Mr. Salt waved.

“So wonderful to have you here.” Mrs. Pepper added.

“So nice to meet you both.” I smiled back.

But then my eyes caught it, across the kitchen on another counter top sat a bag of marshmallows. And on the bag? A big blue paw print!

“Steve! A clue! A clue!!” I squeezed his hand back and was jumping out and down.

“The flu? You don’t look sick to me. Here let me check.” He held his hand to my forehead. “No, you don’t have a temperature.”

I couldn’t help but giggle to Steve. “No! A clue! Over there!” I pointed to the paw print.

Steve gasped and quickly the two of us ran over to the bag of marshmallows. “So our second clue is…marshmallows. You know what we gotta do. We gotta put this clue in our handy dandy…”

“Notebook!”

“That’s right! Our notebook! Now, a marshmallow. We’ll make two round lines on the side and an oval on the top. At the bottom we’ll make half a circle to connect the sides. There! A marshmallow! But what could Blue want to do tonight after dinner with…a tree and a marshmallow?”

The two of us stopped and started to think about the clues. There were pretty different from one another. It would be hard to tell what they meant together.

“Maybe she wants to play fetch then eat some marshmallows?” I suggested.

Steve gasped and nodded his head, “Maybe! But I think we should find our last clue before we decide.” I nodded in agreement.

Mail time, mail time mmmmaaaaaiiilllll ttttiiimmmmeeee

“Oh! The mail is here!” Steve grabbed my hand and together we ran into the living room. Blue and him started dancing around happy for the mails arrival. After a minute I started to join in the fun.

“Here’s the mail, it never fails. It makes me want to wag my tail. When it comes I want to wail, MMMMMAAAAAIIIIILLLLL!!!”

Steve plopped down into his thinking chair and held his hand out for me to sit as well. “You’re more than welcome to sit on my lap or on the arm of the chair. Whichever is more comfortable for you Y/N.”

After a moment of consideration, I chose to sit on the arm of the chair next to Steve. The mailbox stretched into the room and over to our chair. “Mails here! Mails here!”

“Mailbox! I’d like you to meet my friend Y/N. Y/N, this is Mailbox.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” I smiled to the purple mailbox.

“It’s nice to meet you too! Infact this letter is for you.”

“It’s for me?”

“Yup! Here you go!” Mailbox opens his lid and Steve grabbed the letter for me.

“We just got a letter, we just got a letter, we just got a letter, wonder who it’s from.” He went to open the letter but paused and looked to me. “Y/N this is your mail. Would you rather open it or would you like me to?”

“Could you open and read it?” I asked a bit shy. But Steve brought me back to feeling comfortable with his warm smile and nod.

“Of course I can. Now let’s see, oh! It appears that this letter is from a (stuffie name here).”

I gasped and looked down at my stuffie. “It’s from (stuffie name here)?!”

“Uh-huh. That what it says. The letter goes,

Dear Y/N,

Thank you for always taking such great care of me. Thank you for always coming to me whenever you need extra love and comfort. Always know I will forever be with you even when you have to go to school or work. There’s always a piece of me inside of you just as there a piece of you inside of me.

Love you always,

(Stuffie name).”

Tears started to fall down from my eyes as I looked at my stuffie in hand. They looked back up at me with a smile and a wink.

“What a beautiful letter! Your stuffie is very grateful for you Y/N, just as I’m sure you are for them. Oh, I don’t think we were introduced. It’s nice to meet you (stuffie name).” Steve leaned over and shook the stuffie’s (hand, paw, fin, ect.)

“They said it’s nice to meet you too.” I add back to Steve, wiping the happy tears from my eyes.

“Are you okay?”

I hum in agreement. “My stuffie was just so nice.”

“They seem great! You’re perfectly matched because you’re great and they’re great too.” Steve smiled. “Now, would you like to take a moment here or would you like to go find the last clue?”

“The last clue!!”

“Alright!” He stood up and offered his hand again. I jumped off the chair and took his hand in mine again. “Off we go looking for clues…but ummm…where do you think we should go?”

I looked outside and saw the sunsetting. It might be nice to get some fresh air again. “Maybe outside?” I offered.

“Great idea! Follow me.” Steve led the way as we ventured back outside.

Outside we started to walk around the town. Steve showed me the eye doctor where Blue’s friend Magenta got her new glasses, then there was the present shop where his brother Joe works and another house down the block where his cousin Josh lives. The town seemed so nice and peaceful.

Since we didn’t see anymore of Blue’s clues we ventured back to Steve’s house and into the back yard. There it seemed all of his friends were handing out around a picnic blanket, tree and a fire pit. WAIT A MINUTE! THE FIRE PIT!

“Steve!! A clue!! Another clue!!” I pointed out again.

“Really?! Where?”

“There by the fire pit! The final clue!”

Steve gasped and looked at the fire pit. There, at the base of it was the clue.

“A clue!! Our final clue! And it’s on the fire pit. You know where we need to put this, in our handy dandy…”

“NOTEBOOK!”

Steve grabbed his notebook from his back pocket and began drawing. “So our last clue is…a fire pit. We’ll start by making a cylinder for the fire pit. Then spark points for the fire inside of it. There, a fire pit!”

He closed the notebook then looked at me just as excited. “We have all three clues! We have to sit in our-.”

“Think chair!!”

“Yes! Come on!”

The two of us raced back inside the house and over to the thinking chair. Steve sat in his usual spot and I opted for the arm of the chair again. Blue ran over and joined us, to see if we got it right.

“So now that we’re in our thinking chair, let’s think. So what could Blue want to do tonight after dinner? What’s our first clue?”

“A tree.”

“That’s right! A branch! Good job remembering. So our first clue is a branch. But what was our second?”

“Marshmallows!”

“You’re right it’s marshmallows! You have an amazing memory.” He smiled.

“Finally our last clue is a fire pit. So what could Blue want to do tonight after dinner, with a tree, marshmallows and a fire pit?”

The two of sat in the chair together and think, think, think. They did seem random at first but they meant to go together. Then suddenly it hit me!

“Steve! I’ve got it! I’ve got it!!”

“What is it Y/N?”

“Blue wants to use the wood from the tree to make a fire so that she can roast marshmallows!”

Steve’s face lights up to the idea. He looks to Blue who start jumping around the room happily. “You did it Y/N! You figure out Blue’s Clues!”

Steve jumps up and put his arms open to me. I immediately run into them, getting a big hug from him. “You are so smart! I am so proud of you!”

Tears build up in my eyes hearing the admission. He’s treated me so sweet for hardly knowing me. I haven’t felt this safe and happy in such a long time.

“Come on, let’s go outside and get ourselves a marshmallow.” Steve says as we break apart.

The two of us join the rest of the neighborhood outside to roast some marshmallows. There I meet Joe and Josh as well as the rest of the family including Magenta, Sidetable, and more.

I sat next to Steve as the evening turned to night. We looked up at the stars above as we ate our marshmallows.

“You know, you could stay if you wanted?” Steve said after a moment. I looked at him shocked at first. “It’s just that, you did such a good job finding all the clues. And Blue and I loved having you here. Plus, I could look after you and show you the rest of the town and-.”

He stopped himself. “Sorry, what I’m trying to say is. If you like to stay you’re more than welcome to. I’d love to have you here. And before you say anything, I don’t mind your regression. I’d love to help take care of you and maybe even possible be your Caregiver. So what do you think?”

I immediately began to tear up again. “I’d love to stay and I’d love to have you as my Caregiver.”

Steve’s nervousness turned immediately to happiness as he put his arms out again. I didn’t waste any time as I joined him in a hug.

“I’m so happy to hear that Y/N. I think you’re going to be the best person for this town. I couldn’t be more happy to have you here Y/N.” Steve added as we broke apart.

“I couldn’t be more happy to be here.” I smiled back.

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stupidlittleace · 7 months

Text

Marriage, and other such bindings

Pairing: Barbatos/gn!Reader

Rating: T (kinda suggestive though nothing is stated)

Word count: 1063

Summary: Reader brings up the topic of marriage, and both lovers quickly find themselves becoming possessive (in a sexy way)

Tags: gender neutral reader, kinda dommy reader, cuddling, bed sharing, established relationship, pact/brand markings

AN: I’ve just been thinking about Barbie’s love survey where he talks about wanting to be bound by his lover…and that’s canon. Anyway, I wish they’d do more stuff about his sin, maybe it’ll come up as part of his motives if he really is NightBringer. Kinda very self-indulgent. 🎉🎉 First fic on tumblr

———

“Marry me.” You whispered to his lips, pulling back a minuscule amount to unseal the kiss. “Properly.”

“Properly?” He asked, the movement of his lips brushing against your skin, pushing his nose into yours to nuzzle against your face.

“How many times have we married each other in shared dreams and worlds? Bound ourselves to each other to be freed from some game or illusion?”

“And is that not “proper”?” He teased.

“Do you consider it real?” Tracing your fingers lightly along his hairline, you tucked the stray hairs behind his ear without needing to look. “I want to be able to call you my husband. To stake my claim on you and know you are bound to be. And to be completely owned in return.”

His shiver under your fingers was small, but you caught it. He was a greed demon, after all.

You asked him, “do you want to be owned by me?”

“Please.” You thought you heard him sigh, but he didn’t speak up to repeat it. Instead, he pulled back slightly to be able to look you in the eyes, twined your hands together where they sat on the mattress, and said to you: “I’ve never been married before.”

“Never?” You asked as you pulled up your free hand to stroke over his jaw. He really was so pretty, it was a shame you weren’t allowed to say it. “Never is a very long time.”

“No one has ever treated me like you treat me. No one has ever made me crave being treated like you treat me.”

“Barbie~”

“Beloved.”

“I wouldn’t ask you for a pact, I don’t need you to be subservient to me. I just want you. Forever.”

He stewed in that for a moment, closing his eyes and bringing his lips to yours in a series of quick, shallow kisses.

“I could brand you.” The demon’s free hand had moved to sit on the bare skin above your heart, tasting the calm and heady pulse beneath his palm. “Brand you with my name and mark, taint your aura with mine.”

You hummed indulgently at the statement, moving your hand to instead press his harder into your skin.

“It would show here,” he continued, staring through your skin. “Always. And everyone would know it’s mine. You’re mine.

“The brand would lend you some power, not unlike a pact but with less pull. Instead of commanding me it would be more like asking politely; I would get to pick and chose which orders I am to follow, despite feeling a desire to serve you.”

“Perfect.”

“And, in return, I would always be able to find you, feel your heartbeat, be pulled to you across any and all plains.

“This is a demon marriage, an equal exchange of souls.”

He moved to press his cheek to the skin previously covered by his hand. With his movement, you leaned backward into the pillows, taking him with you to lie down. “I want it.”

“As do I.” He murmured into the skin of your chest, your hands coming up to stroke his head and run your fingers through the hair at his nape. “Although, I do lament you cannot brand me in return.”

You ponder on his statement for a moment, pretending that you had not already thought it over many times, before. “One day,” you start, pressing the hand not otherwise occupied into the space between his shoulder blades. Applying pressure to the skin; fair, unblemished—for now. “When I am a sorcerer in my own right, I will forge my own sigil and burn it so deep into your skin it will never fade.”

He went still against your chest, breaths stuttering before evening out with a squeeze to your body. “We could do it now.” He seemed to test the statement, worried about the possibility of a negative response.

“I will have no regrets.” You tell him, sure and steadfast in the statement.

He breathed into your skin, huffing hot breath onto the valley of your chest, before bringing his lips to your skin and beginning his incantation.

“I, Barbatos—first of my name, first of my kind—chose to bind myself to the soul beside me. In turn, I have been chosen, I impart my brand upon them: Apprentice of the Sorcerer Solomon, bearer of The Ring of Light.”

You feel the binding and the words come over you—although it was a spell you had never learnt, the oath fell easily from your lips. “I—Apprentice to the Sorcerer Solomon, bearer of The Ring of Light—take the brand of Barbatos—first of his name, first of his kind—and in doing so, bind my soul to his for as long as we should exist.”

“With this brand, I acknowledge our bond of trust and love, I see it returned.” He finalised with a kiss to the skin.

Under his mouth, you felt the tiny pinpricks of a soul pact come into place. Watching as the skin changed colours under his breath, you relished into the feeling of the binding. Strings pulled tight between the two of you, and you felt your soul burn brighter as it became enveloped in his. Your soul and his, forever.

The brand revealed itself to you as your demon pulled slowly away to admire it. A sigil spelling his name, as well as a protection spell, and a few other symbols you didn’t recognise from your studies.

“This one,” he whispered, pointing to a shape you couldn’t identify, “is the demon symbol that detonates this mark as a brand between two.” He moved his eyes to beam up at you. “It is similar to a wedding band.”

Cupping his chin, you tease him: “I think I’d still like a ring.” Managing to get the statement out before cutting yourself off with a yawn—all of your energy spent from the ritual, physically demanding or otherwise.

“I believe I’d also be interested in partaking in the custom.” He said softly—admiring the brand again, and you chuckled slightly at the idea of him wearing the ring under his gloves before yawning a second time.

He looked up into your eyes, your natural colour now ringed with green and speckled through with gold. “Sleep well, my beloved, my darling, mine.”

“Good night, Barbie.” You mumble. “You’re mine forever, I love you.”

#obey me #obey me barbatos #obey me x reader #obey me barbatos x reader

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ilyasorokinn · 2 months

Text

always a winner ― ilya sorokin

note, i love ilya, and can’t believe i haven’t written as many things as i have for other players. he’s literally the love of my life, and i’ve kind of neglected him lol. anyways, this fic is part of the "sorokin, party of four" series. check out this masterlist for more. another note, also, let's please not talk about how this is like a 300 years late. i'm so behind on things and so tired and i think i'm getting burn out? but idk so let's just enjoy that i wrote something :) all-star fics are in the works. last note, sorry one last note. in this fic, mila is 4 and victor isn't really in this, but he is 2 :) summary, regardless of the outcome, ilya sorokin is the best dad in the world to his kids. warnings, kids/children word count, 1286 words (a little short, i'm sorry. it's just ilya being cute with mila ig)

mila’s eyes were wide as she took in the converted football field. she was wearing her sorokin jacket and a beanie with a sequined ‘30’ on it. victor was only 2, so you left him with ilya's parents because you knew he wouldn't remember most things.

"mama, look!" mila pointed up at something before her attention was grabbed by something else. you tried your best to keep up with her but she was running on sugar and adrenaline, a dangerous combo for a toddler.

"i know," you laughed, "slow down, mimi." you called after her. you eventually spotted the girls and all the kids, standing off to the side of the field, talking and taking everything in as well, "look, there's your friends." she quickly spotted all the other kids and ran over to join them.

you followed after her a little slower, wrapping your jacket tighter around you and taking everything in. it still was mind-boggling to you, even a decade later, that this was your life. you were in metlife stadium, watching your husband play the sport he loved, surrounded by a group of girls doing the same thing. it was special.

"take it all in." kristy wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "it's magical."

"this is so insane." you laughed.

after bribing mila with some more sugar and almost having a meltdown, the guys finally came out. before family was let out onto the ice, all the media content was taken. once that was all taken care of, family was finally let onto the ice.

once he was able to, ilya immediately made his way over to you and snatched up mila, flipping her upside down, making her giggle like crazy.

"put me down, papa!" she giggled, trying to get out of his grasp. he put her back down and set her down on the bench. he made quick work of helping her tie her skates and helping her get her helmet and pads on.

after helping mila, he turned to you. even though you had been together for a decade and no matter how much you protested, he would always help you put your skates on.

he kneeled in front of you and grabbed your foot, tying your skate, "new trick?" mila asked. she had been taking skating lessons for a few weeks.

"you want to show everyone your new trick?" she nodded her head, "of course, you can," you smiled, kissing her head and switching legs so ilya could tie the other skate. once he was done, he helped you off the bench, and you each grabbed one of mila's hands, walking her over to the ice.

all around you, the rink was a buzz. everyone was skating around. kids were playing mini sticks, guys were skating around, girls were mingling and skating.

it took a few laps, but eventually, mila was comfortable with skating and let go of your hands and skated around. you and ilya followed behind her and when she did fall, ilya was quick to pick her up and soothe her before she could start crying.

ilya skated off to the bench and grabbed a stick he had brought for her and handed it to her. varlomov's kid was in front of the net, just like their dad, so mila winded up and skated shakily up to the net with the puck and managed to get it past them.

she turned around and looked at you, shocked that she had done it. you both gave her a thumbs up, "celly." you told her. she did a little celly, which the media team had caught on camera and would later be posted on the isles social media account.

she skated over to ilya, who picked her up and held her to his chest, "that was amazing, mimi." you cheered, patting her on the back.

she skated around a little more before she was distracted and started playing with the other kids. you managed to take lots of pictures and got a picture of mila with her favorite guy on the team, mat barzal, cause of course her favorite uncle is uncle maty.

mat carried her around the rink, making her laugh and giggle (which gave the media team more amazing content of mat with a child). you and sydney got pictures of matt holding mila and ilya holding winnie which melted your heart.

the next day, mila somehow overcame the sugar rush and was filled with even more energy. the entire way back to metlife, she was bouncing around in her seat in the car.

"mimi, calm down." you laughed, watching her talk to herself through the rearview mirror, "now remember, when we get there..."

"i know, i know. hold your hand and don't let go, i know." she sighed. you didn't have to look back to know she was rolling her eyes. you knew where she got her attitude from.

"good." you nodded. you looked back at victor, who, on the other hand, was as calm as a cucumber in his seat. he had been occupying himself and barely paying attention to his sister.

you arrived at metlife earlier than all the fans attending, and met up with a few other girls, as well as your parents and all of the family ilya had invited. it wasn't many people, but you were excited to see them.

after pregaming the game with a few of the girls, fans started to arrive. there was a good mixture of both rangers and islanders fans so you were excited. you had left mila and victor with ilya's parents and your's so you could go off with the girls to get snacks and drinks.

by the time you had returned, mila already had a bag of cotton candy and victor was asleep, his headphones on so he couldn't hear all the loud noise. when mila saw you, she looked at you, her eyes big and scared.

"who gave you cotton candy, miss mila?" you asked. without hesitation, she pointed over to your dad. you looked over at him and raised a brow.

"who am i to deny my grandchild?" he simply shrugged, accepting a piece of cotton candy mila was offering him. you shook your head and smiled before turning your attention to the game.

the first period of the game was strong. the isles were up 3-1 and everything was looking good. by the end of the second, it was 4-3 and by the end of the third, it was tied and mila was asleep.

then, 10 seconds into overtime, panarin scored and the rangers fans in the crowd went crazy. when the horn blared, an overwhelming feeling of sadness filled your heart. you knew ilya tried his best and he would probably beat himself up about it.

you left mila and victor with your parents and ilya's family, who would drive back to your home where they were all staying, and you would drive back with ilya.

you followed alexa, matilda, and emma down to meet up with the guys. when you saw ilya walk out of the locker room, you couldn't help but smile. he managed a sad smile back and made his way over to you.

no words were said as he wrapped his arms around you. you stayed like that for a few minutes, just wrapped in a hug. you pulled away and cupped his face, "i'm proud of you." you leaned your forehead against his.

he nodded, "you were amazing, ilya." he nodded again before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, "let's go home. order some sushi and go to sleep." you grabbed his hand and let him lead you over to his car.

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gimmethatagustd · 2 months

Text

venor (4) | kth + jjk

The barista at the university’s café keeps telling Jungkook not to come back, but Jungkook is too busy daydreaming about kissing the beauty marks on his face to be paying attention to his warnings.

○ Pairing: Tiger!Taehyung x Bunny!Jungkook

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Hybrids, predator/prey, college au, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, light angst, eventual smut

○ Word Count: 5,275

○ Warnings: None

○ Notes: Did Jai get tired of making the messaging graphics and is now just doing plain text? Yes. Are we gonna talk about it? No.

○ Post Date: February 25, 2024

○ Masterlist | AO3 Cross-Post

○ What was Jai listening to? The series playlist

Series Masterlist

vante95

what’s up?

“Suyun! Suyun! Suyun!”

Jungkook launches himself from his seat and bolts to the opposite side of the room, where Suyun is still drawing her scary equations and chemistry things on the whiteboard. He shoves his phone in front of her face and waggles it until she grabs his wrist to hold him in place.

“Calm down, young man.” She glares at Jungkook, but it’s not at all menacing, and they both know it.

It would be nice, but Jungkook can’t calm down. Every vein in his body jitters with something terrifyingly electric, like he stuck his finger in an outlet and tried to walk through the aftershocks. It makes him feel like he might pass out, but in a good way.

Maybe Jungkook needs to chill out.

Maybe Jungkook isn’t worried about that, though. What’s so bad about having a little crush? Jungkook has never actually had one, not a real one, so he thinks it might be nice to lean into it. Suyun encouraged him to reach out to Taehyung anyway. Jungkook would argue that he can’t be held responsible.

“What should I say?” Jungkook bounces on the balls of his feet, and he’s glad his shirt is long enough to hide his tail because it might be wiggling. Perhaps. No one needs to know.

“Oh no, I’m terrible at this,” Suyun hands Jungkook his phone. She pouts with a shrug. “I don’t even know how I got Jackson to date me. I’m terrible at small talk and flirting.”

Looks like Jungkook is on his own.

He plops in his seat, homework assignments forgotten. With his chest pressed against the edge of the table and his arms stretched out in front of him, Jungkook lets out a long, pitiful groan.

jkookie

Just studying with my friend 😊 What about you?

vante95

that’s cute

i’m taking a break at work

yknow at my job at a cafe for predators only

jkookie

🫠 I don’t think it’s fair to ban prey from going! The donuts are so good

vante95

so the donuts are why you keep showing up

that the only reason?

jkookie

... Yes

vante95

mhm

interesting

jkookie

Is it?? They’re good! I love the powder sugar ones and the sprinkles

vante95

i would’ve thought you’d like the striped ones

jkookie

I’ve never had the striped ones before

vante95

lol

cute

anyway

if you’re gonna keep being difficult about this at least promise me something

jkookie

👀 What?

vante95

only come during my shift

jkookie

Why?

vante95

so i can make sure no one eats you

“Oh, that’s kinky,” Suyun announces over Jungkook’s shoulder. “Tell him you want him to eat you.”

“Suyun!” With a gasp, Jungkook turns in his chair to stare at Suyun, wide-eyed and innocent.

“I don’t know. It seemed like a logical next step. He kind of lobbed it to you, right?” Suyun shrugs and returns to the whiteboard. “Make the basket, Jungkookie.”

Suyun has definitely been spending too much time with Jackson.

jkookie

Am I supposed to believe that your being there will matter?

It’s a risky text to send. Jungkook worries he comes off rude, especially when it takes a bit longer for Taehyung to respond than it did for his other texts. Before he can get too worked up about it, Jungkook reminds himself that Taehyung is at work. He might be slow to respond because he’s busy — which technically Jungkook is, too, but he decides that taking a little break from homework is needed.

Taehyung’s following text message comes a few minutes later, and Jungkook lets out a little groan because why is Taehyung’s level of cockiness so attractive? It shouldn’t be a surprise; Taehyung carries himself confidently, which was apparent from when Jungkook first met him.

vante95

i’m kind of a big deal

jkookie

What are you, their alpha??

vante95

did you really just ask that

jkookie

I have to go now

Bye

vante95

lol

see you tomorrow bun

Cheeks aflame, Jungkook slips his phone into his pocket and tells himself that he will not, under any circumstances, look at it until later tonight, after he’s finished his homework and gotten dinner with Yoongi. It’s their night to cook together once Yoongi gets home from work.

It doesn’t take long for Jungkook to finish the work that requires his immediate attention. He’ll deal with the other assignments later, like the Art History assignment Professor Jung referred to during class. Jungkook still hasn’t settled on a topic for that one yet. It isn’t that he’s slacking; in reality, he has many potential project topics he’s interested in and is having trouble narrowing down the list. Perhaps he’ll find time to stop by Professor Jung’s office later in the week to ask for help.

Saying goodbye to Suyun, Jungkook braves the dying evening heat to head to the train station. There isn’t a grocery store within walking distance of the university with all the ingredients he and Yoongi need for dakgalbi, so Jungkook has to travel a few blocks south to reach the neighborhood grocery store.

Jungkook doesn’t mind the commute or having to meander through aisles looking for red chili paste, shishito peppers, and cooking wine. Growing up with overprotective parents meant Jungkook spent much time trailing behind them, running errands, and learning about adult responsibilities. Time spent alone or with kids his age wasn’t a luxury he got to experience often, though he cherished those moments when he got the opportunity to.

So, Jungkook enjoys searching for groceries. He likes the colorful products lining the shelves, the slightly stale smell of some older grocery stores, and the dark markings of rubber-soled shoes smudged on the linoleum. Lately, errands like this have made him miss his parents, but not enough to truly consider himself homesick. His drive for independence prevents him from getting too nostalgic.

Hunger encourages Jungkook to finish up his grocery shopping quickly. He forces himself only to buy what’s needed and manages to fit most of the items in his backpack. With the wine in a grocery bag looped through his fingers and his backpack sitting on his lap, Jungkook watches the neighborhoods blur on the train ride back to campus.

The train isn’t separated by predators and prey like the university is. Most of the public isn’t, at least not legally. Jungkook has noticed that prey tend to flock together, rarely intermingling with predators unless necessary. It’s hard in an oppressive society where predators are always on top, even in a progressive city like Seoul.

Jungkook never thought about how predators and prey interact until he moved. Now, though, he notices so much more — like the group of predators who enter his train car a few stops before they reach the university. He recognizes a few of them, particularly the wolf hybrid from Taehyung’s friend group. The group doesn’t pay Jungkook any mind, quickly shuffling past him toward the back of the car, where there are more seats.

Disappointment uncoils inside Jungkook when he doesn’t see a messy head of copper curls follow the wolf hybrid when he walks past where Jungkook sits, but he reminds himself that Taehyung is at work.

It’s for the best that Jungkook has no distractions on his way home. Poor Yoongi will be waiting for him.

The third time Jungkook visits Venor Cafe, Taehyung is working behind the counter. He stands with his hip propped against the edge of the counter and talks to the snow leopard hybrid while she counts money at the register. The bills make a papery sound as she flips them between her fingers with practiced precision. She doesn’t look up when the bell over the front door rings, but Taehyung does.

Taehyung easily maintains his conversation with his coworker while his sharp feline eyes stalk Jungkook to the counter. The look on Taehyung’s face is nothing short of predatory, but all Jungkook can focus on is his comforting scent. He wonders whether Taehyung’s scent spiked when Jungkook entered the cafe or if it’s all in his head.

“Give us a sec,” the snow leopard gestures to the open register drawer when Jungkook approaches.

Jungkook nods and gives himself a moment to check out his surroundings. A handful of other customers are scattered around the cafe, none that catch Jungkook’s attention. He only has eyes for the tiger behind the counter, and Taehyung definitely has his eyes on him, too.

“Bun.” Taehyung leans his forearms on the counter, bringing him closer to where Jungkook stands just half a step back.

“Hi,” Jungkook says with a cheerful smile that isn’t returned. “How are you doing today?”

The snow leopard snorts, and Taehyung’s pretty mouth twitches at the corners. His dark eyes flit to the backpack slung over one of Jungkook’s shoulders, and Jungkook notices that Taehyung is wearing thin, black eyeliner, making his expression pointed.

“I’m assuming you plan on staying in here?”

He ignores Jungkook’s question about his day. It’s rude, but Jungkook will let it pass because Taehyung looks exceptionally fluffy today, and it’s doing something to his chest.

“Yup. I’m starting a new routine.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm, this is my time to decompress after class before my shift at the library starts.”

Taehyung bites the inside of his cheek, eyes flashing with something Jungkook can’t read. He straightens up to let his coworker pass, taking her apron before she disappears into the backdoor marked for employees only.

“That’s nice,” Taehyung comments, tone flat and almost bored. “Listen, bun, you’re gonna do me a favor and sit right there.” Dipping his head, Taehyung gestures to the large couch and well-worn leather armchairs directly across from the register.

Jungkook turns around to look at the seating arrangement. The chairs surround a glass coffee table stacked with old university event fliers and a few tiny potted succulents. The furniture looks comfortable, and Jungkook spots an outlet nearby.

“Why?” Jungkook asks, turning back to face the counter.

“I already told you.” Taehyung’s eyes travel down Jungkook’s body, pausing where his crop top exposes a hint of his midriff. “Gotta make sure nobody eats you.”

Blinking rapidly, Jungkook hurriedly breaks eye contact with Taehyung as a flush spreads up his neck and across his face. Never has he felt so attuned to his instincts as he does now, his entire body prickly and on edge. Taehyung makes Jungkook want to run.

No, Taehyung makes Jungkook want to be chased.

Shaken by that realization, Jungkook jerks into action. He gives Taehyung a quick nod and turns to the leather couch. On his way to getting settled, he nearly knocks over the succulents and sends a few fliers shooting into the air and fluttering to the floor like autumn leaves.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jungkook murmurs, snatching the papers and trying to ignore the low chuckle coming from behind the counter, eventually drowned out by the sound of the espresso machine.

Despite the unexpected start to his “Decompress Time,” Jungkook finds his rhythm rather quickly. The leather couch is worn but comfortable, with plush cushions that form to Jungkook from years of being well-loved by loyal customers. He rests his tablet on the arm of the couch to prop it up at a comfortable angle so he can work on his comic.

A busy schedule has prevented him from progressing much, but Jungkook has learned not to shame himself for moving slowly. Hobbies are meant to be fun; there’s no use making himself miserable over something that should bring him joy.

Perhaps Jungkook enjoys it a little too much, getting lost in the colorful worlds he creates with furrowed brows and a stylus gripped in one hand. After a while, the rest of the world grows fuzzy and desaturated, like the unfinished background of a lesser scene in Jungkook’s comic. He doesn’t notice the figure looming over him until his backpack is pushed to the side on the glass coffee table.

“One iced mocha latte.”

“But…” Jungkook watches Taehyung place the drink on the coffee table in front of him. “I didn’t order anything.”

Taehyung gives Jungkook a blank expression for half a beat before turning his back on Jungkook’s confusion and returning to the register as a few more customers trickle in. There’s no use in calling after him; Jungkook would prefer not to draw attention to himself, and he wouldn’t want Taehyung to get in trouble — since it mustn’t be allowed, right? To give away free drinks?

It’s hard to ignore the fuzzy feeling Jungkook gets in his chest when he picks up the drink and gives himself a moment to process that Taehyung remembered his order from weeks ago. Jungkook has seen the cafe during busy hours; he’s sure Taehyung has far too many customers to remember orders, yet Taehyung remembered his.

The drink is in a disposable paper coffee cup. Disappointment nips Jungkook in the heart when he realizes Taehyung has put his drink in a to-go cup as if to subliminally tell him to leave. Jungkook twists the cup in his hand and notices something scribbled with a permanent marker on the side — a small cartoon bunny with floppy ears and large, starry eyes. Underneath the drawing in messy handwriting is the simple greeting, Hi, bun.

Jungkook isn’t sure how much blushing he can take today. His body is heating up so severely that he’s worried his scent might start spiking from embarrassment in the middle of a predators’ hangout.

Taking a deep breath, he risks looking at the counter. Perhaps there is a different edge to Jungkook’s scent, or Taehyung has an uncanny sixth sense, but his eyes immediately lock with Taehyung’s. Like before, Taehyung’s expression is unreadable. Their connection is broken with a blink, and Taehyung focuses on tending to the next customer in line to order. Only the twitch of his striped ears give a hint that he might still be paying attention to the bunny across the room.

Jungkook takes a sip of his drink to stop himself from grinning.

Over the next few weeks, Jungkook visits Venor Cafe fairly regularly. He doesn’t come in during all of Taehyung’s shifts; Yoongi thoroughly explained how creepy that would make Jungkook seem. Jungkook doesn’t see the harm in it, but he trusts his hyung to know about these things — even if Yoongi tends to overthink quite a lot.

Besides, Jungkook knows that Taehyung enjoys having him around. Why else would he continue drawing adorable bunnies on Jungkook’s cups and leaving little messages on his napkins?

Sometimes, Taehyung is too busy to talk to Jungkook. On those days, Jungkook receives even more hidden messages accompanied by drinks and snacks that Jungkook doesn’t order but appear on the coffee table anyway.

From what Jungkook has observed, most of the employees are college students who aren’t the most ambitious and don’t always take their jobs seriously. They aren’t like Taehyung, who works hard and is attentive to his customers, no matter how tired he may seem. It’s admirable, and Jungkook likes how the more he gets to know Taehyung, the more he proves those terrible stereotypes people feed about predators wrong.

Even the other predators at the cafe don’t seem too bad. By now, Jungkook has spent hours on the leather couch that always seems free, even when the rest of the cafe is crowded, and he has never been treated poorly by the other customers. He’s starting to think everyone is overreacting. What are they seeing in the world that Jungkook can’t?

Considering he has no other predator friends, Jungkook figures he may as well ask Taehyung all his questions. But, first, he has an important matter to settle.

“So, why are you in a prey class?”

“I can’t talk to you, bun. I’m working.”

“You were behind the counter texting someone not even five minutes ago,” Jungkook challenges with a toothy grin, “Answer my question.”

Looking up from where he’s wiping off one of the tables, Taehyung gives Jungkook a long stare. His hair is pushed away from his face today, held back by a black bandana to match his all-black outfit. Nothing should be so attractive about a black t-shirt and jeans, especially not all-black Air Forces, yet Jungkook can’t get over how pretty Taehyung is.

What’s even more adorable is how the two of them probably look together, staring each other down in the back corner of the cafe, Taehyung in all black and Jungkook in pastels.

“I thought bunnies were supposed to be timid,” Taehyung finally comments with an arched brow.

“I’m not like most bunnies.”

Jungkook regrets his response the moment he gives it and internally cringes. Taehyung’s laughter makes it worse.

“Cute.” Taehyung smirks, the tip of his striped tail flicking from where he tucks it in the string ties of his apron. The placement keeps his tail out of the way as he works. Earlier, Jungkook almost stepped on it while following Taehyung around the cafe, and he isn’t particularly interested in finding out what an angry tiger looks like.

“I’m taking it because the timing for our class session conflicted with my schedule, and I needed to take this one now since I want to graduate a semester early. Trust me, I wouldn’t take a class with prey if I didn’t have to. No offense.”

“Why not?”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “You’re something special, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am,” Jungkook agrees with more confidence than he should have for someone unsure if Taehyung’s comment was a compliment.

With a shake of his head and a laugh that’s a rush of air through his nostrils, Taehyung fights the urge to smile as he resumes cleaning the messy table. Jungkook should probably return to his seat, but he’s having more fun bouncing on the balls of his feet while Taehyung scrubs at a sticky spot on the table. Part of that fun might be because the veins in Taehyung’s forearms become more defined as he scrubs harder and his bicep bulges against the tight cuff of his t-shirt.

“Bun.”

Blinking, Jungkook looks up to meet the heartstopping smirk on Taehyung’s face.

“Um, yes?”

Taehyung gestures to the side of his head, grin growing wider when Jungkook lifts his hand. One of Jungkook’s ears has fallen from inside his bucket hat, exposing it to the whole cafe. Jungkook quickly shoves it back inside the hat, having sworn he’d tied both back adequately, stress radiating from his trembling body.

“Hey, hey,” Taehyung’s warm fingers encircle Jungkook’s wrist and pull his hand away from his head. “It’s okay.”

“I’m not—”

“Can I tell you something?” Taehyung interrupts. He waits for Jungkook to nod before continuing, “It doesn’t matter if you hide your ears or tail, bun. We all know what you are, even without seeing them.”

“What do you mean?” When Jungkook’s face scrunches with confusion, Taehyung taps the tip of Jungkook’s wiggly nose with his index finger.

“Our senses are sharper than yours. Prey smell different.” Taehyung slips the cleaning rag into his apron’s pocket. He looks amused, as though there’s a secret joke to what he’s said that Jungkook doesn’t understand.

Unsure of how to respond, Jungkook stands with his fingers nervously tapping against his thighs and waits with bated breath as Taehyung plucks his hat from his head.

“I like your ears. They’re cute,” Taehyung murmurs just quiet enough for Jungkook to hear. He holds the hat out for Jungkook to take, then turns on his heel without another word, leaving Jungkook flustered — not for the first time, and certainly not for the last.

At some point, Suyun starts hanging out with Jungkook at Venor Cafe. The first time she visits the cafe is with Jackson, who Jungkook is surprised to learn is friends with Taehyung. Considering how tall and athletic they are, the fact that the two predators play on the university’s basketball team makes sense to Jungkook. A fox hybrid, Jackson moves elegantly and is quick on his feet, bouncing around as he playfully tussles with Taehyung before the start of his shift. The obnoxious display of predatory behavior makes Suyun roll her eyes, though her cheeks grow pink whenever Jackson smiles at her from across the cafe.

It’s disgusting couple behavior in the kind of way that Jungkook thinks he would quite literally die to experience himself.

Luckily, Jackson doesn’t frequent the cafe — not that Jungkook doesn’t like him. It’s merely that Jungkook enjoys spending time with Suyun, and it’s easier when Jackson doesn’t serve as a distraction.

Suyun argues that Jungkook gets distracted by a particular employee, but she doesn’t tease him too badly about it. Jungkook is grateful for that, considering someone else does enough teasing.

“Two spooky pumpkin cinnamon donuts with chocolate drizzle.”

Taehyung places two small plates on the coffee table in front of the leather couch — which has become Jungkook’s couch at this point. He has yet to arrive at the cafe to find it already occupied. What strange luck.

“We didn’t order—”

“Shhh,” Taehyung interrupts Suyun with a finger to his lips. “It’s officially autumn, and Jungkook has never had striped donuts.”

A wink is Taehyung’s goodbye as he returns to his work duties, leaving the pastries behind. They look delicious, and having tried the cafe’s other donuts, Jungkook is confident they won’t disappoint. He picks one up and cups his other hand underneath it to catch the cinnamon crumbles that might fall from it when he takes a bite.

“Jungkook,” Suyun whispers as she watches him chew.

“Hmm?”

“He gave you an orange donut with brown stripes.”

Jungkook nods with a little hum of appreciation. The donut is really good.

“Do you not get it…?” Suyun’s eyes widen, and her large, round ears perk up. She smacks Jungkook on the thigh with her whip-like tail when he doesn’t say anything, making him yelp. “Orange with stripes! Jungkook! The tiger just fed you an orange donut with brown stripes.”

Jungkook’s entire body shivers with realization. “Ohh…”

“Yeah,” Suyun scoffs, shaking her head. “Yeah."

“I mean, it’s just a seasonal donut. It doesn’t, like, mean something.” Jungkook gestures to the cafe’s large front windows as if to point out the trees' changing color and the skittering leaves along the sidewalk. “Right?”

Suyun shrugs and reaches for her own donut. “I don’t know… Is it normal for him to give you free food like this?”

Jungkook nods, and something weird inside him makes his stomach flutter when Suyun hums in surprise.

“Well… That’s… I mean, that’s interesting.”

Setting his tablet and stylus on the coffee table, Jungkook turns on the couch to face Suyun. “What do you mean? What’s interesting?”

When Suyun shakes her head, Jungkook musters up the most pathetic pout he can come up with.

“Suyun, please tell me. I don’t understand.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she mutters with a roll of her eyes. “It probably doesn’t mean anything at all. It’s just that sometimes gift-giving is a, um, it’s a component of—”

Before Suyun can finish her botched explanation, Taehyung appears beside the couch. He’s engrossed in something on his phone and no longer wearing his apron.

“Scoot over, bun. I’m taking my break,” Taehyung demands as he wiggles in between Jungkook and the arm of the couch.

Startled, Jungkook scrambles to the middle of the couch, giving Taehyung more room. He’s reminded of how big Taehyung is, with spread thighs and broad shoulders that brush against Jungkook’s. Today, they’re both in jeans, though Jungkook is wearing an oversized v-neck sweater, whereas Taehyung is in a plain t-shirt. It’s getting cold outside, but Taehyung’s body seems to run hot.

This is the closest they’ve ever been, and Jungkook feels like he can’t breathe.

“Is that me?”

Suyun smacks Jungkook on the arm, bringing his attention to Taehyung’s gaze. Following it, his stomach overturns with nausea when he realizes what Taehyung is looking at.

“What? No!” Jungkook snatches his tablet and holds it to his chest like a teenage girl who has had her diary read. “Why would it be you?”

Taehyung rests his elbow on the arm of the couch and holds his chin in his hand. His boxy mouth curves into a small smile, though Jungkook isn’t fooled. The giddy look on Taehyung’s face is mocking.

What can he expect, really? Taehyung has just seen the portrait Jungkook has been drawing of him.

“Let me see it.”

“No.”

“If it’s not me, why can’t I?” Taehyung’s grin is sharp, canines glinting in the natural lighting.

Jungkook thinks about how Suyun said he should let Taehyung eat him.

“It’s not good…” Jungkook makes up an excuse. The portrait is good; Jungkook has been working on it for weeks. He told himself he needed a break from working on his comic and wanted to practice realism.

Really, he just likes looking at Taehyung.

“Y’know, bun, I’m majoring in Museum Studies and Studio Art,” Taehyung speaks casually as though he isn’t at all phased by the fact that some prey hybrid who thrust himself into his life has been creepily drawing him while he works. “I know a thing or two about good art.”

Jungkook knew this. He was surprised when he first learned that Taehyung wanted to work as a curator or exhibition designer in a museum. It was a cool career aspiration that Jungkook had never considered, probably because his mind was always clouded by the financial stability entering the tech industry could bring him. Now that he knows more about what’s out there in the world, he sometimes has his regrets.

“That makes me want to show you even less,” Jungkook mumbles, sneakily turning off the tablet and returning it to the coffee table. “Maybe some other time.”

Jungkook doesn’t know why he pseudo-promises a future where Taehyung may see his artwork, but he can’t help it. Maybe it’s the enthralling look in Taehyung’s eyes when he realized the drawing was of himself. Maybe it’s the warmth of Taehyung’s tail resting on Jungkook’s thigh.

Maybe Jungkook is actually losing his mind.

“I’ll hold you to that, bun,” Taehyung says with a grin. His eyes roam Jungkook’s face like he’s committing it to memory or searching for something amongst the scar on his cheek and the beauty mark under his bottom lip.

The bell above the cafe’s front door rings, drawing Taehyung’s attention away from Jungkook. A group of predators enters, led by the wolf hybrid Jungkook has unfortunately run across far too many times lately. It’s odd to see the same person so often, especially in such a large city as Seoul.

“Hoseok hyung!” Taehyung waves at one of the men. For a moment, Jungkook fears that Taehyung is calling over the wolf hybrid, but instead, a snake hybrid breaks off from the group to weave through the tables.

“Taehyungie, what’s up? Are you not working today?”

Jungkook doesn’t miss how Hoseok eyes him and Suyun. However, he doesn’t know how to interpret the snake hybrid’s expression. The slitted eyes throw him off.

“Nah, I’m just taking a break. You guys still going over to Byungchul’s later?”

When Hoseok nods, the white scales that contour his face and collarbones glitter.

“Are you?”

“Of course. I need a fucking break,” Taehyung groans, leaning his head back on the couch.

“Bringing your… friends with you?” Hoseok’s eyes sweep over him and Suyun, again hard to read.

Taehyung shifts slightly, and Jungkook tries to scoot over to give him more room. Taehyung stops him by wrapping his arm around Jungkook’s shoulders and gently drawing him into his side. Rather than be startled by Taehyung’s sudden out-of-character behavior, Jungkook melts into his embrace. Taehyung’s body is warm and firm, and his scent is so calming that Jungkook feels like he can fall asleep from how comfortable he is. He doesn’t even bother wondering why Taehyung is acting this way.

“Oh! I’m hanging out with Jackson’s family this weekend,” Suyun turns to give Jungkook an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot to tell you.”

As part of their Art History class final project, they’re supposed to visit a new ancient Egyptian art exhibit at the National Museum of Korea. Jungkook and Suyun had plans to go together over the weekend.

“It’s okay,” Jungkook reassures her with a small smile. He doesn’t mind going to the museum alone.

Taehyung squeezes Jungkook’s shoulder. When Jungkook turns to look up at him, he still has his eyes on Hoseok. It’s a nice view, though. Jungkook can admire the curl of Taehyung’s pretty eyelashes and the jut of his plump lips. He has to fight the urge to nuzzle into his neck.

“He better not fucking bring any prey.”

Jungkook feels Taehyung tense as the wolf hybrid saunters to stand beside Hoseok. There’s something slimy about him, even beyond his gross comments toward Jungkook on his first day of school.

“That’s no way to speak about your hyung, Byungchul.” Taehyung’s response is clipped, a tone Jungkook isn’t familiar hearing from him.

Byungchul crosses his arms against his chest as if to puff himself up. He’s more muscular than Taehyung, but he isn’t as tall or broad, and he looks silly, forcing himself to seem bigger than he really is.

“You’ve already tainted the only predator cafe in the neighborhood by letting them in,” Byungchul gestures to Jungkook and Suyun, who frowns at him in a way she probably thinks is intimidating. “There’s no way you’re ruining our hangouts, too.”

The words don’t necessarily sting because Jungkook doesn’t know Byungchul, but they make him uneasy. It seems like a threat, something Jungkook has never experienced before. He’s never experienced any kind of discrimination before.

Standing up, Taehyung gets in Byungchul’s face, though Byungchul doesn’t back down.

“If you have a problem with them being here, you can leave.”

Jungkook, Suyun, and Hoseok watch silently as the two predators size each other up. Clearly, neither wants to back down, but Taehyung has an advantage over Byungchul because of his age and the fact that he works at the cafe. Eventually, Byungchul backs away with a glare in Jungkook and Suyun’s direction.

“Fine,” Byungchul grunts. He’s quick to turn his back on the group and shoulder through the front door, flinging it open hard enough that it’s loud when it slams closed behind him.

“What a little shit,” Hoseok says with a cackle that shows all his teeth. They’re pointy, too. Never has Jungkook been around so much danger. “He’ll never survive in the real world.”

Taehyung isn’t as amused. He motions for Jungkook and Suyun to get up once Hoseok has fallen into the line at the register.

“Can you please leave?” Taehyung asks with a weary sigh. Jungkook knows he and Suyun don’t have a say in the matter.

On another day, Jungkook would be sad, but he feels relieved to leave the cafe when Taehyung asks. He and Suyun don’t bother looking back when they slip out the front door like teens sneaking out of the house, careful not to draw attention to themselves.

“What bullshit,” Suyun huffs once they’re out of earshot of the cafe. She kicks a stray pebble on the sidewalk and watches it ricochet off a nearby tree.

“Do you have to deal with that kind of stuff a lot? Because of Jackson?” Jungkook asks quietly. He’s still shaken up, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

Suyun shakes her head. “Most of his friends are pretty chill. Byungchul has something wrong with him.”

Clearly, Jungkook thinks as they make their way to the library. Maybe some predators are rotten apples.

Series Masterlist

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd &daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.

#taehyung x jungkook #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #venor #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #taekook fanfic

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katyswrites · 1 year

Text

'tis the damn season

PART 4 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), angst, friends-with-benefits, parental neglect/abuse, smoking, alcohol use, two fools who can’t just say what they feel

Wordcount: 9.1k

Childhood friends-to-lovers-to-strangers-to-lovers again, broken promises, and roads not taken, lots of angst, soft smut, illicit affairs, what-ifs, and it’s always been you. And it all leads to your hometown, during Christmas break.

Part 4 | the warmest bed I’ve ever known

THEN, Spring 1988

“Wait, what?” Robin cried in disbelief.

You sighed, twirling the phone’s cord in your hand.

“Robin, look -”

“You mean I’m not going to see you at all? You’re killing me here -”

“Robin! It’s just… this is a really big opportunity. And, I’ve got my own place here now, and flights have gotten crazy expensive -”

You heard Robin laugh through the phone, then a sigh.

“You know I’m fucking with you, right?”

A small wave of relief washed over you - you had been dreading this call, so much that you’d been putting it off for over a week.

“You are?”

“Yeah! I mean - I’m not going to lie, I’m pretty bummed that you’re not coming back to Hawkins. I miss you like crazy. But, that’s so exciting… like, an internship with the New York Times? I mean, you’re really doing it - making it in the big city, all of that -”

You smiled, and flopped down on your bed, clutching the phone.

“Yeah, well, it’s not exactly glamorous - it’s an unpaid internship, and I’m taking extra shifts at the coffee shop to make it all work, with two roommates -”

“Yeah, but… it’s all pretty amazing. You’re really getting out, doing what you’ve always wanted. And I mean, me and Steve are still stuck back here -”

You twinged inwardly at the mention of his name, and were suddenly thankful that Robin couldn’t see you right then.

“Oh c’mon - don’t talk like that. I mean, you said the semester’s going well, right?”

Robin sighed, and you could picture the way she was probably rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, at Hawkins Community - but, I’m thinking of transferring next year. Not sure if I can afford it though.”

“There’s nothing wrong with community college, Robin. I’ve told you that like a million times -”

“It’s not the school itself, you know that. I just… you actually got out, away from Hawkins. The most interesting thing here is the movie theater, and only one screen is working right now, did you know that?”

You bit your lip, and searched for the words - you couldn’t argue with her there. But, Robin carried on, the way she often did:

“But, to be honest, it’s probably good that I’m sticking around here - without me here, God knows what would happen to Steve. I think we’re a little codependent, to be honest - did you tell him yet, that you’re not coming back for spring break, or the summer? I can, if you want, but I didn’t know -”

“Oh, uh - I mean, you can, if you want,” you answered quickly. “No need to make a big deal out of it, but, um… I don’t care if he knows, I guess. He’ll figure it out, when I don’t show up, anyways.”

You were aware that you were stammering, your heartbeat quickening and palms growing clammy at the thought of Steve. In the days following your argument, you had found yourself spiraling, thinking of nothing but Steve. There were a million times that you thought about calling him, or driving to his house, or even writing him a letter - but the idea of facing him again was enough to make you sick. In the end, you had headed back to New York in the new year, and subconsciously made a vow to never see him again. When you had received the summer internship offer, and the chance to renew the lease on your apartment, you had jumped at the opportunity.

You hadn’t told Robin about what happened between you and Steve - it felt wrong to lie, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to talk about it. But you had somewhat assumed that he would say something - those two were inseparable. If she knew anything, though, she wasn’t letting it on. In fact, she was talking about Steve like things were completely normal, which was lending itself to awkward conversations like this.

“Um, okay… by the way, just between you and me, I think he really misses you.”

You stiffened, and cursed yourself for your sharp intake of breath - Robin probably heard that.

“You think so?” you asked, trying your best to keep your tone steady.

“I mean, yeah - whenever I bring you up, he gets kind of weird… I can’t really explain it. He usually talks to me about these things, but… it doesn’t matter. I love him, but he can be such a guy sometimes, you know? But, I think he’s going to be sorry to hear you’re ditching us, that’s all.”

No, you thought. He’ll actually be thrilled to know he doesn’t have to see me again.

The thought alone was enough to make your eyes start to burn with tears, and you soon had to make a lame excuse to hang up the phone. And once again, you were alone.

NOW, Winter 1988

For the two days following your conversation with Robin, where you had confessed everything, you find yourself spiraling. Maybe it’s just the run-in with Steve that had done this, the reminder that he’s real and here, only minutes away - in New York, it had been easy to keep him off of your mind. But, now, everything reminds you of him - driving past your old high school, the small Methodist church on the corner, the movie theater at the center of town, or the footprint of where Starcourt Mall used to be, bringing you back to that one summer when he scooped ice cream in that ridiculous sailor uniform. You feel him in the chilly winter wind, in the bare trees lining the sidewalks, in the smell of fireplace smoke drifting through the atmosphere on especially cold nights. And you hear him in the music on the radio, when that one Wham! song comes on, and you picture him rolling his eyes and smiling endearingly and you belted it in his face.

You had thought that being back in Hawkins would feel strange, after being away so long. But no, it’s worse - it aches.

But, Christmas is on its way, and you throw yourself into holiday prep in full force. You decide to not think about Steve, to the best of your ability. You gather and wrap gifts, help hang lights over the fireplace, and finish addressing the last-minute Christmas cards that your mother forgot to send out. Then, comes the baking - you’re always tasked with it, making cakes and cookies and confections for all of the parties, including your special lemon cake, saved for an indulgent breakfast on Christmas morning. It’s what brings you to the grocery store in the afternoon, with a long list of baking essentials. The store is a bit of a zoo, with Christmas only about a week away, and you find yourself shouldering down the aisle labeled ‘Baking Needs.’ It’s slim pickings, and you inwardly groan as you have to get the more expensive brand-name baking soda. You’re so preoccupied that you’re intentionally drowning out the sounds of the people around you, scanning your handwritten list with a furrowed brow.

Okay, you think, I’ve got the eggs, lemons, flour, sugar, unsalted butter -

It’s why you hardly see him, not until you’re looking up and moving again, nearly crashing your cart right into him.

“Oh my - oh, hey,” you say, your voice getting caught in your throat when you realize who it is.

Steve stares back at you, mouth hanging open, eyes wide. He looks just as he did a few days ago, a bit changed from the boy you last saw a year ago. But, he’s still Steve, and he’s standing in the middle of the grocery aisle right in front of you. The mundanity of it all somehow makes it seem more unbelievable, more exasperating. To his credit, he’s frozen in place, looking like he’s seen a ghost.

“Hey,” he replies softly.

You both stare at each other, almost filling the silence, then stopping - what is there even to say? Shoppers weave around you, muttering to themselves, crackly Christmas music playing through the store’s sound system. But you may as well be able to hear a pin drop, because you can’t find a single thing to say, and neither can Steve.

“I - um - what are you doing?” Steve asks. You glance down at you cart, full of chocolate and flour and absolutely nothing practical, then shrug.

“Oh, you know - buying stuff for Christmas baking. My parents are busy with work, and I’m the one who knows what to get anyways, so… yeah.”

It’s stiff, and awkward, and a ridiculous exchange to even be having. He just nods.

“Oh, yeah - the great Christmas baking extravaganza.”

Right - three years ago, Steve had been there to help you, letting you instruct him around the kitchen, and the cookies had nearly burned because you two got… distracted. You shake the memory, feeling sick.

“Oh - yeah. I think I’m making my chai cookies for your party, actually… your mom told my mom that she really liked those.”

He raises his eyebrows at that, curious.

“You’re - you’re coming to the party on Saturday?”

“I - well, yeah. I didn’t think I was, but… my mom was pretty insistent.”

Something flickers across his face then, something unreadable, then his expression hardens.

“Right, yeah -makes sense. I mean, that you’re coming because of your mom.”

His words are clipped, his voice sharp. Fuck.

You just wish, more than anything, that the ground will open up beneath you and swallow you up, if it means getting out of this encounter. But, miracles don’t happen often, so you have to swallow your pride and face him instead. You sigh, looking down at your cart.

“Steve, I - that’s not what I meant. Well, I guess it is, but - I figured you didn’t really want to see me. And I’m not going to make you uncomfortable in your house, that’s not fair.”

Just silence from him, and you can’t look at him. You just find yourself focusing on a bag of flour in the cart, reading the label as you try to figure out something else to say.

“But, it seems the world just wants us to run into each other anyway, apparently,” you mumble.

“Hm, yeah, I guess,” Steve says coldly. Another moment passes, just the two of you in the grocery aisle - somehow, of everyone in the store, he’s the only one who truly seems like a stranger.

“Well, uh - I guess I’ll see you on Saturday,” you say quickly, finally bringing your eyes back up to meet his. “I - I’ll try to stay out of your way, though. It’s the least I can do.”

You make a move to keep pushing your cart, but Steve just sighs.

“Hey, wait -”

Despite yourself, you stop in your tracks, frozen. You look back at him, and there’s a question in his eyes, searching your face for… something.

“Yeah?” you reply.

“I, uh - are you free later today?”

You furrow your brow, and nod cautiously.

“Um, yes - I mean, I think I should be. I have a couple of other errands to run, but I don’t think it’s going to take super long -”

“You want to meet at Gateway? And like, get a coffee, or something?”

You feel your stomach twist and turn into knots - there’s something in his voice, the harsh edge softened just a bit, pleading for you. And he’s staring at you with those honey brown eyes, and you know one thing - if you say no, that’s it - the nail in the coffin. So you swallow, and nod slowly.

“Yeah - sure thing.”

He nods curtly, and glances at his watch.

“Okay, well - it’s noon, so want to say like, around 2?”

“Mm hm - that’s fine. I’ll meet you there, I guess.”

You let your gaze linger on Steve for a moment longer, then turn and walk down the aisle, pretending to look at your shopping list. You wonder if he’s still staring at you - but you don’t dare to turn around to find out.

*****

You arrive at Gateway Diner at 1:56 pm. Steve is never on time for anything, that much you know - so you sit in your car for a moment, gathering yourself. You take a few deep breaths, shutting your eyes and resting your head against the wheel. You feel a bit sick, your mind in a haze ever since the conversation in the grocery store a few hours ago. Coming back to Hawkins was a huge mistake, Christmas be damned -

You take a moment to glance at yourself in the mirror, and sigh - if you had known this was happening today…

You fish around in your bag, silently thanking yourself for always carrying around a little concealer and mascara. You do your best with your finger to cover the dark circles under your eyes, hastily dabbing in the concealer until it’s deemed good enough. As you quickly run mascara over your lashes, you laugh to yourself, feeling like a fool - but, it doesn’t stop you, nor does it stop you from finally getting out of the car. You take one more deep breath in the chilly December air - you can do this.

When you enter the diner, your cold cheeks burn as they meet the warm air. It’s thick with the sounds of chatter and silverware, the smell of greasy food wafting from the kitchen. It had been so long since you had last been here, and somehow, you actually feel like you’re somewhere familiar for the first time all week.

You try to catch the eye of the girl behind the counter to be seated - someone new, she might even still be in high school - but before you can, you hear an all-too-familiar voice call your name. You whip your head towards it, and see Steve sitting at a booth by the window, waving in your direction.

You nod and head over, each step feeling impossible as you grow closer to him. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve run into him, you realize - you’ll never quite get used to the sight of him, not anymore.

He already has a mug of coffee in front of him, halfway done, by the looks of it. He got here early, and waited, you realize with dread. Fuck.

“Hey,” he says, offering a small smile as you slide into the vinyl booth.

“Hey,” you parrot. He’s just staring at you, and you suddenly find yourself fidgeting. Unsure what to do with your hands, you just fold them flat on the table, suddenly making this whole thing feel like a business meeting between colleagues. No, worse than that: you’re strangers.

“Thanks for coming,” he says quietly. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

You shrug, staring down at the full cup of coffee sitting in front of you - he must’ve ordered it for you.

“To be honest, I wasn’t sure I would, either.”

It’s brutal, but honest - his face falters slightly, but to his credit, he recovers quickly.

“Well, I’m glad you did.”

Silence again. Heavy, awkward. You fumble with one of the little creamers, pouring it into your coffee and avoiding eye contact as you busy yourself.

“So,” he starts, “uh - how’s New York been?”

You shrug, stirring the coffee with a spoon.

“Fine. I mean, good - really busy. I’m still interning with the Times. And, working at this coffee place downtown. But, it’s cool, because I’m actually doing stuff. Like, I don’t just grab coffee - I get to sit in on meetings, they listen to my ideas, let me look over stuff as it gets edited - I’m learning a lot.”

You find yourself rambling, carrying on with details he probably doesn’t care about, because somehow it’s better than that godawful silence. Steve, to his credit, is at least pretending to be a good listener - he’s looking at you intently, hanging on each word as you carry on about your apartment, your roommates, the breaking news article you practically stayed overnight in the office to help get published.

“- I mean, don’t get me wrong, I was exhausted, but it was worth it - there was this thrill to it, knowing that I helped to make that happen, and it was on the front page. Below the fold, but still -”

“That’s amazing,” he says quietly. You stop, and meet his eyes. He’s just looking at you, face soft, and something tells you he actually means it. Bastard.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s what you’ve always wanted - for as long as I remember. So, that’s awesome, really. Did they put your name?”

You raise your eyebrow, confused.

“What?”

“Your name. On the byline? You always said that was your dream - to have your byline on the front of the Times.”

You hesitate for a moment, completely caught off-guard - you don’t even remember telling him that. But he does.

“Oh, that. Well, no. But, I didn’t write it, exactly - I called some sources, did some editing, but… it wasn’t exactly mine.”

He shakes his head as he raises the coffee mug to his lips.

“That’s still not right - you deserve it. I’ll march down there and tell ‘em that myself.”

You feel something flutter in your chest, in a way that’s achingly familiar, because it’s so Steve.

“Yes, well - I think I can handle that for myself, thanks.”

It’s meant to be a joke, but sounds more defensive than you intend - did you intend it that way? But, you can't think on it, because the wall is put back up. You can see it in his face, how it hardens, how he straightens up a bit - he was just starting to relax, both of you were, but that iciness remains.

Before you can say anything, a waitress is approaching, carrying a tray full of food. You vaguely recognize her - middle-aged, with a friendly face and massive perm. Is her name Joan, maybe? You feel just a little sad, starting to feel more detached from the town you grew up in than you ever have before.

“The full breakfast for you, young man - and a full stack for you, with extra syrup,” she says enthusiastically.

You look at Steve, and raise an eyebrow. He just offers a small smile, and shrugs.

“I ordered before you got here - I figured you’d never say no to pancakes, right?”

“I - yeah, no, that’s great. Thanks, Steve.”

You set yourself on pouring the side of syrup over the plate, and Steve just shakes his head.

“So I was right - you still like to drench everything in sight in syrup,” he says playfully.

“Shut up,” you retort, earning a chuckle from him. It’s slightly forced, but still nice to hear - you hadn’t been sure if you remembered what his laugh sounds like anymore.

“Thanks, though,” you add. “I’m actually pretty hungry.”

You both sit in silence while you eat. It’s strange, how something can be simultaneously so uncomfortable yet familiar. The booth is the same, with its worn vinyl, the sticky tabletop, the smell of coffee and syrup and eggs settling wrapping around you like a warm hug. But then there’s you and Steve, the only unrecognizable thing in this diner - still technically the same people who had slid into this booth as teenagers, but a bit older, more hardened, and something irreparable separating you.

“So,” you say after a while. “Uh, I realize I talked a lot about myself, but… how are things with you?”

He glances up at you for a moment, and shrugs.

“Oh, you know - the same. Working at Family Video, hanging out with Robin, the kids - I guess they’re hardly kids anymore. But, you know me - not much to report.”

There’s an edge to his voice, and it takes you a moment to remember why. You had managed to block out most of your argument from last winter, because the memory of it riddles you with an immeasurable guilt. But, you remember now:

Uproot your life? Be serious Steve - you couldn’t take a week off from your minimum wage job, chauffeuring a bunch of teenagers, and maybe being Daddy’s punching bag?

You suddenly want to sink into the floor, because if Steve is intentionally giving you a cold shoulder, you can’t say you don’t deserve it. But, wasn’t him asking you to meet him here, his way of extending an olive branch? Or, was it just to get some closure?

It’s an elephant in the room, this great big thing making it impossible to be near him, making your stomach turn intermittently. So, it has to be addressed, eventually - it needs to be ripped off like a band-aid.

“Hey, Steve - I… I’m sorry.”

He looks up at you, meeting your eyes properly.

“What for?” he asks quietly.

You sigh, placing down your fork.

“You know what for,” you say firmly.

“Do I?”

He’s playing a game, his words a little more biting. This is going to be even harder than you thought, you realize - and you had already been prepared for it to be godawful.

“I - last time I saw you… I said some things I regret. Some really shitty things. And, you didn’t deserve that. I -” you steady yourself for a moment, taking a deep breath to combat the heaviness in your throat. Your chest is tight, your palms clammy.

“I just, um - I’ve played that argument in my head, like, a million times. And, I’ve felt a lot of things. Sometimes I get angry, upset, or just plain sad. But most of the time… I just feel shame. Like, utter, fucking shame. So, it may not mean much at this point, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fix this but… I’m sorry.”

You do mean it, every word, and there’s something unbelievably cathartic about finally saying the words that have been playing through your mind for a year. You’ve played this conversation in your mind a thousand times, and for once, you think that maybe you’re not screwing it up.

Steve’s face is unreadable - you can tell he’s thinking, and listening, but it’s hard to gauge what he’s really thinking.

After a moment, he simply asks, “Then why did you leave?”

“What?”

“Why did you leave? When you didn’t come back this past summer, I - I thought you were gone for good. That I’d never see you again.”

He says it matter-of-fact, blandly, like he’s trying to stave off any emotion. You don’t really know what to say to that - did you think you’d ever actually see him again? Did you want to?

Honesty, you decide - at this point, it’s the least you owe him, even if you don’t actually know what the truth is.

“I - I thought I was, too. Gone for good, I mean. It wasn’t an actual choice - like, I didn’t think I wanted to stay away forever. But, you were right about one thing - I’ve always wanted to get out of Hawkins, and leave it all behind for something else. Any yeah, whenever I was gone, I missed you, Robin, my family… but then, when - well, when that happened… I got the internship offer, the chance to stay in my apartment, to start my life in the city. So, I decided to stay there. I ran, because… because I’m a coward. And, because I figure you hate my guts, and it’d be easier if you didn’t have to deal with me anymore.”

Because I couldn’t bring myself to face you, because I’d rather miss you than be hurt even more, because I -

“No,” he whispers.

“No what?”

“No, you’re not a coward,” he says firmly. “You’re a lot of things - Smart. Talented. Stubborn. Honest. A terrible singer, and a sugar addict -”

Despite everything, you find yourself laughing at him, because there he is again, the Steve you know.

“- but a coward? No, no way. Maybe you were scared but… that’s not the same thing, not really. I mean, you got out of Hawkins, you’re kicking ass at your dream job before you’re even done with school - that’s not a coward, got that? And… I don’t know how you could ever think that I hate you. Ever.”

He leans back in the booth after that, some tension visibly leaving his body as he gets it off of his chest. You just feel yourself freeze, your ears roaring, eyes burning.

“I - Steve, don’t -”

“I mean it,” he says. “I was hurt, and pretty pissed - maybe I still am, I don’t know. But hating you… that’s not something I could do.”

For not the first time in your life, you feel the sudden urge to protect this boy, to want to give him everything, to make sure nothing ever hurts him again. But you can’t say it, because it’s not quite a feeling you can put into words, unless -

“Promise?” you ask, perhaps a bit pathetically.

“Promise,” he says.

With Steve, it’s easy to believe him, even if it’s only for a moment.

*****

When you’ve both drank your bodyweight in coffee, cleared your plates, and exhausted conversation, you make a move to leave the diner. Steve insists on paying, dropping bills on the table as you both re-emerge into the cold December air. After the warmth of sitting inside, the outdoors bites your skin, flushes your face. You wrap your scarf just a little tighter, shoving your hands in your pockets as you both walk to the parking lot.

The day is already starting to dull, and thanks to the peak winter season, you know that there’s probably only about an hour of daylight left. Neither of you speak for a while, not until you reach Steve’s car. The familiar red BMW makes you want to cry, and you suddenly feel stupid for even feeling so attached to something like a car. But, it’s not a car - it’s an extension of Steve.

“Well, thanks,” you say carefully. “I - I’m glad we got a chance to talk properly. To clear the air, I guess.”

There’s still so much to be said, so many questions you want to ask - but maybe you’d never really know the answers to those.

He just kicks at the gravel, scuffing his Nikes as he contemplates.

“Me too. I mean, uh - do you have anywhere you need to be?”

You shake your head cautiously.

“Um, no? I already dropped my groceries at home, but I’m probably not going to start baking until tomorrow… I think my parents are out tonight, anyways. Wait, why?”

He shrugs, leaning back against the side of the car.

“Well… wanna go for a drive?”

He asks it so simply, as if no time has passed at all. In your high school days, and when you’d visit for college breaks, going for an aimless drive was a frequent occurrence, just an excuse to spend time together. But now, it feels like more than that - a peace offering, an attempt at normalcy.

“Oh! Um - yeah, sure. Why not.”

When you slide into the passenger seat, everything is the same - not that you had really expected anything else. The dusty dashboard, the worn-leather smell, the crackly radio - all the same, like you had never left.

“Where are we going?” you ask casually as Steve backs out of the lot. You pull off your big red scarf, tossing it into the back seat as heat wafts through the vents.

“Dunno. Wherever we feel like, I guess.”

The answer is the old parking lot adjacent to Hawkins High, tucked right between the school and an old Methodist church. It’s basically deserted, the middle of the work and school day making you and Steve one of the only cars here.

After he parks, the boy just sighs, leaning back in his seat and shutting his eyes. You let him just do that for a while, the Christmas music on the radio serving as the only form of company. You stare ahead across the street, at the old high school building. The girl and boy who walked those halls a few years ago don’t exist anymore, not really - instead, there’s the versions of you and Steve sitting here in this car, changed.

“D’you ever miss it?” you ask.

“Hm?”

“High school. I mean, I know a lot of it is bullshit, and I think I’d die if I had to take another algebra test, but… do you ever miss parts of it.”

He thinks for a moment, before sighing and straightening up in his seat.

“Yes and no. I do think some things were a lot more simple back then. I mean, I was an asshole, but I kind of got my shit together towards the end. But, to answer your question - do I wish that my biggest problem was winning the next basketball game, or which girl I was going to take to prom? Yeah. Of course.”

You think about his words for a moment, and echo a similar sentiment - a desire for a life that was simpler, more carefree than you had realized at the time.

“We’re getting old,” you joke.

He laughs heartily, nodding in agreement.

“Oh, yeah - we’ll be in the old folks home, soon enough.”

You both laugh at that, the feeling and sound of it nearly foreign.

“Do you think we’re all going to end up like our parents?” you ask, voice a bit firmer.

He pauses again, staring straight ahead out the front window.

“No,” he concedes. “I hope not.”

The hours pass, the dusk quickly turning into the heavy cloak of night. The pair of you mostly sit in silence after that, occasionally swapping an old memory from childhood, laughing at a story from your high school days, occasionally wondering aloud where some of your former friends and classmates are today.

“I wonder if Tommy H. and Carol are still together,” you wonder aloud.

Steve groans. “Ugh, don’t remind me of them.”

“Why not? You guys were friends -”

“Yeah, that’s the problem. I wasted so much time with them, and people like them, just to be something I’m not. I just wish I had figured that all out sooner.”

“Why?” you ask. “I mean, I know they were kind of dicks, but… there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be popular in high school.”

“Maybe not,” he says. “But, I didn’t realize that what I really wanted - what I needed - was there in front of me, the entire time. And I didn’t need to chase anything.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, because you know what he’s getting at - you think back to that conversation years ago, in the haze of early summer, when he confessed to regretting distancing himself from you in high school. The same night he’d kissed you for the first time, when a lot of things happened for the first time -

You find yourself looking at the boy in the driver’s seat, and you want to reach across and just touch him - run your hands through his hair, brush along his face -

And you don’t realize that you’re leaning closer to him, you hand half-reaching out towards him. You catch it, pulling it back and settling it in your lap. But he’s looking at you with those big brown eyes, warm like honey, and they feel just a bit like home. And he’s leaning towards you, too, closer than he probably should be.

“Steve?” you ask, softer than a whisper.

“Yeah?”

You can feel the heat radiating off of him, contrasting with the cold fogging up the windshield glass, and he’s so close, the familiar smell of him becoming too much -

“I -”

Then, a screeching HONK, loud enough that you jump, your head nearly hitting the ceiling.

“Oh, fuck -”

“Jesus, sorry,” he says, realizing it just came from him, elbow pressed too hard into the steering wheel of his own car.

“It’s fine,” you say. Your eyes flit down to the clock on your dashboard, and you let out a shaky breath.

“Oh, wow - look at the time! I - I know my parents are out, but, it is pretty late -”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve says hurriedly. “Let me just drive you back, I guess.”

“Sounds good!” you say, your voice a little too shrill, too enthusiastic. “Just bring me back to Gateway, actually - we left my car there.”

“Right, of course - I’ve got you.”

You two don’t say much else on the way back, letting Baby It’s Cold Outside and Sleigh Ride fill the silence instead. When Steve brings you back to the diner, you offer each other a curt nod, and you manage to get out a thanks again, I’ll see you at the party.

Before you can close the door, you’re stopped as he says “Hey, wait -”

“Mm?”

“Are we - are we friends again?” he asks. His voice is soft, pleading, his eyes wide and shining through the dimness of the night. You cross your arms and pull your coat tight, thinking carefully about your answer.

You want to say yes, of course, I don’t think we could ever not be friends, Steve. But then you remember what he had said all those months ago - those three words, which somehow crossed a line more than any amount of sex ever could. It’s what stops you, makes you hesitate, even as the boy stares at you expectantly.

“I - I don’t know,” you admit. “I guess I just - I need some time still, to figure stuff out. I don’t know if things can ever go back to the way they were, but -”

“They can’t?” he asks, sounding a bit defeated. You sigh, kicking yourself internally. You’re barrelling down a familiar path, and this whole thing could blow up again in an instant. So you gather yourself, measuring your response.

“I mean - not exactly as they were, no. But… I do miss you, Steve. More than I realized. So… I think it’s a start,” you decide.

He thinks for a moment, then slowly nods.

“Yeah, okay - I can do a start.”

You both just stare at each other for a moment, and you ultimately decide to step back. Before slamming the passenger door closed, you add, “Well - thanks again. I’ll see you on Saturday. At the party, I mean.”

He nods curtly, offering a semi-forced smile.

“Yeah - Saturday.”

When you’re back in your car, and you’re certain he’s driven away, you let your forehead rest on the steering wheel, wishing you could just melt into it and never come out again.

*****

It’s difficult to say whether you actually feel better after your day with Steve. Most of you says yes - apologies were made, the air was cleared, and for brief moments, it had felt as if nothing had happened at all. But, it also brought back memories - far too many memories. Little things, really - Steve’s laugh, they way his eyes glint in the sunlight, the smell of his cologne, the cigarettes he keeps in his glove box; the way he looks at you, the look he gets when you make a joke, the way he sounded saying I love y-

You’re pulled from your thoughts by the sound of your doorbell ringing. You glance at your bedside clock - it’s a little past 10pm, but there’s no way your parents could possibly be home yet…

You swing your legs over the side of your bed, shrugging on a sweater as you pad down the hallway to your front door. The doorbell rings again, and you roll your eyes - probably a last-minute late night delivery from out-of-town, because your mother always forgets something until a few days before Christmas.

When you open the door, the last thing you expect is Steve Harrington to be standing there in the dim porch light. His face is flushed from the cold, the flurries of snow dusting his hair, and he looks just a little too handsome. The sight of him makes you ache again, in a way you can’t quite explain. His eyes widen at the sight of you, as if you’re the last person he thought would be standing in the doorway of your own house.

“Steve! Hi! I, uh - what’re you doing here?” you ask with surprise.

“Oh, um, you know,” he says, raising up a flash of red in his hand. “It’s just - you left this. In my car, I mean.”

You look properly at what he’s holding, and you make out what it is: your scarf. You hadn’t even realized it was missing.

“Oh! Um, thanks,” you say, taking it from his outstretched hand. Your fingers brush his, just for the briefest second. And, despite how cold his skin is, it feels like it lights you on fire at the contact. You pull back quickly, as if he’s actually burned you, and sling the scarf over your arm.

“Don’t mention it,” he replies, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.

You both stand there for a moment. Two. The wind howls a bit, and you both shiver.

“Was there anything else?” you ask, hardly daring to raise your voice above a whisper.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, but he doesn’t sound too sure. “I mean maybe?”

“Maybe?”

“No, I mean, yes - that’s all.”

You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms.

“So, you drove out here in the middle of the night, as the snow is starting, just to bring me my scarf back?” you demand.

He just stares at you, long enough that you wonder if he somehow didn’t hear you. Then, he’s taking a step forward, and whispering, “No.”

You’re not sure who moves first, but he’s crashing into you, arms tugging you into each other as his lips find yours.

You gasp as he kisses you, surprised by how right it feels, how easy it is. Your hand is fisted in his coat, and he brings his hands to both sides of your face as you back up through the doorway, pulling him with you.

He kicks the door closed behind him, hardly breaking the kiss - it’s desperate, and messy, and nothing is gentle about it. He kisses you like he’ll die if he doesn’t, enough to knock the breath from your lungs. And you don’t want him to stop, not ever, not if it means that you’ll never have to lose him again.

You stumble your way through the house, until you’re searching frantically for the door of your bedroom, the pair of you barrelling through it in a whirlwind and slamming it shut.

It’s the first time you’ve stopped kissing since he came through the doorway, and you both just stare at each other, chests heaving, hearts racing.

“I,” he starts. “I swear, I’m just trying to -”

“I know,” you whisper, bringing one hand up to card your fingers through his hair. “I’ve always known, Steve.”

He furrows his brow, confused.

“Always known what?”

But you don’t answer, and just pull him in for another kiss instead. It’s gentler this time, just a bit sweeter, and he’s sighing into your mouth.

He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer, the kisses becoming desperate again. With every kiss, you’re trying to say a million things: I’m sorry, I missed you, I need you, I could never hate you, I lo-

But neither of you speak, because it’s just desperate moans and gasps, wandering hands and and tongues, and trying to touch anything, everything.

You don’t know when he shrugged off his coat, but you’re tugging at his sweater, perhaps a bit too desperately. He chuckles and steps back for a moment, pulling it off in one swift movement before bringing his hands to your head again, pulling your lips to his. It’s like you’re both addicted, unable to go more than a moment without touching each other. The distance and times is washing away, with every kiss, every brush of skin, every piece of clothing shed.

He’s pulled your own sweater off of you, making a point to kiss the exposed skin of your shoulder and down the valley of your breasts, and you moan.

“Fuck, baby -” you gasp. “I - I”

“What do you need?” he asks, voice wild and desperate. “Tell me, anything you want, baby.”

“Just touch me, dammit,” you breathe, earning a laugh from him.

“I thought you’d never say that,” he growls, gently pushing you so you’re walking backwards. You let yourself fall as soon at the back of your knees hit the bed, and he’s hastily fumbling with the button of your pants.

In any other situation, you’d want him to take his time, to take it slowly, sweetly. But you don’t have the patience for that, not right now. SO you help him, popping the button and shimmying your pants down your legs, reaching around and unhooking your bra for good measure. As the straps slide down your arms and it falls off of you, he groans.

“Fuck - you’re so fuckin’ perfect, you’ve no idea -”

Your heart flutters at the praise, but you just pull him close to you, crashing his lips into yours again.

“Steve - please -”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” he concedes, guiding you backwards. “Lay back, baby.”

You oblige, breath hitching in your throat as his lips wander along your throat, your breasts, swirling his tongue around your nipple. You gasp and arch your back, and the sounds you’re making only push him further, his lips traveling down, down, down -

Then he’s pulling your panties down your legs and kissing you everywhere - your ankle, the inside of your knee, your thigh, and then -

When he first licks a stripe along your slit, you let out a strangled cry, practically flying off the bed as you arch up. He practically growls, pressing his lips to his clit as he does, and you’re pretty sure you’re whimpering.

“Oh, fuck - Steve, that’s it - right there. I - ah! - add your finger there, yes -”

He’s working on you like it’s his job, lapping at you like a starving man. His tongue circles slowly around your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you, and you hear the sound of your slick, your heaving breaths and pleas filling the room. You grip the sheets, bringing your heels to his bare back to press him closer into you.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he breathes into your cunt. “It’s so hot, baby - you taste so good -”

He’s speaking nonsense, half muffled as he licks at you, but the praise is enough for you.

You can’t even warn him, your orgasm hitting you embarrassingly fast. You come hard, screaming his name as you throw your head back and practically buck into his mouth. He continues licking at you softly, gently working you down from your high.

“That’s it, there you go - God, I love how you sound when you come,” he whispers, his breath fanning over your core. When it becomes too much, you gently tap his head, signaling him to come up for air. He pulls himself up slowly, hovering over you with a big grin on his face.

“Hi,” you breathe.

“Hi.”

His chin and lips are coated in your slick, but you don’t care. You pull him down into another kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue.

“You doing okay?” he asks as he pulls back, taking a moment to brush some hair from your face. You nod, unsure if you’re able to speak quite yet. So instead, you reach downwards, fumbling with his belt and button, biting your lip as you fumble in the dark between you two.

“Whoa, okay, hang on,” he says, pulling back to stand up for a moment. He rids himself of his pants quickly, his boxers the only remaining clothing between you two. Then he’s hovering over you again, smiling as you start kissing him. You reach down and start palming at his clothed bulge, straining against the confines of his underwear.

He groans into your neck, and shakily places his hand over yours and pulls it back.

“Wait, wait, baby - as much as I want you to touch me… I think this is gonna be over way too fast if I let you do that.”

You feel pride surge in your chest, the idea that you can have that kind of effect on this beautiful boy above you. So instead, you say nothing, and move to sit up. You wordlessly guide him, coaxing him to lay back against the mattress so you can straddle him.

He’s looking at you like you might not be real, and in that moment, you’re not sure if he is, either. So instead, you help him pull off his boxers, letting his hard cock spring free. It looks nearly painful, and you want nothing more than to make him feel good, to give him anything he wants.

So, without much ceremony, you take his cock in your hand. He hisses at your touch, and as you raise yourself over him, you meet his eyes one more time - are you sure?

He just nods, and you lower yourself onto him, enveloping him inch-by-inch. You both moan at the feeling, moving yourself slowly as he stretches your walls. He screws his eyes shut and throws his head back, groaning at the feeling of you around him. After what feels like a painstakingly long time, he bottoms out, filling you so completely that you think you might cry.

You sit there for a moment, both getting used to the feeling - it had been a while for you, and if you had to guess, it had been for him as well.

“Can I move?” you ask after a moment. He just nods, eyes finally flying open to focus on you.

You being rocking back and forth, slowly, and he looks as if he’s died and gone to heaven. Soon enough, though, you begin to pick up the pace, bouncing on his cock as he rocks into you. He shifts until he’s nearly sitting up, gathering you close to his chest and you continue to rock in his lap. He snakes his hand down to where you meet, rubbing fast, messy circles on your clit. The sounds filling the room are just the slapping of skin, heaving breaths, and a slew of dirty words falling from both of you, incoherent and out of control.

“Oh, fuck - baby, you feel so good - so fuckin’ warm and tight, just for me -”

“I - oh, God - you’re amazing. Your cock is so big, filling me perfectly -”

“So beautiful, riding me like this - I can’t believe you came so quick before, babe - can you do it again?” he whispers, mouthing at the skin behind your ear. You just nod, burying your face into the warm skin of his shoulder, meeting his thrusts as he fucks up into you.

Then he angels himself perfectly, hitting that spot inside of you, and you start to cry out.

“I’m close, oh god, Steve - right there, harder, please, fuck me harder -”

You feel his cock twitch inside you, and feeling just a little bit evil, you squeeze around him. He sounds as if you’ve killed him, pressing his teeth into your shoulder.

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna -”

“Come for me, Steve,” you whisper. “Come when I do.”

He mouths at your neck, and as you feel the familiar hook pulling in your abdomen, it hits you - what both of you need, right now, in this moment. You slow your movements slightly, pulling back to look him in the eye.

“Steve?” you breathe.

“Mm?”

You take his face in your hands, kissing him sweetly, completely in contrast with the way he was roughly fucking up into you. You’re both growing more sloppy, more desperate, chasing your respective highs.

“I - I love you,” you whisper.

That’s enough for both of you. You snap, throwing your head back and screaming as you squeeze and convulse around him. You’re seeing stars, the warmth spreading through you and your orgasm hits your like a train.

Steve follows a second behind, cock twitching and spilling into you as he cries out your name like a prayer, mumbling sweet nothings into your skin as you slow your rhythm, riding out your orgasms together. His hips stutter, then still, only the sounds of your rapid breathing and racing hearts to accompany you.

He still has his arms wrapped around you, chests flush to each other. Steve starts pressing gentle, open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder, his hand slowly rubbing your back. Neither of you say anything, not for a while - the wind howls outside, the snow falling a bit more now.

Eventually, he starts to soften in you, and you pull yourself off, clambering to the other side of the bed. He wordlessly reaches for the unmade comforter and pulls it over you both, noting the goosebumps forming on your skin.

You both just lay there, side-by-side, staring at the ceiling as you wait for your breathing to return to normal. It’s him who finally breaks the silence, because it always is.

“That was -”

“-amazing,” you finish breathlessly, turning your head on the pillow towards him. It’s a tiny bed, and you’re practically nose-to-nose. He’s smiling softly, still blissed-out from what happened only moments ago.

“So… what you said,” he says quietly. “Did you mean it? Like, really mean it?”

And he looks terrified, like your answer might break him, and it makes you want to cry. You want to crack open your chest and draw him inside, keeping him safe right next to your heart. You reach across and gently brush your fingers along his face, ghosting over his cheek and jaw.

“Yes,” you whispered. “Of course I did. I think I have for a long time, Steve.”

His face crumbles, and he sighs with relief, turning up to kiss your palm.

“Did you?” you ask, anxiety creeping into your chest. You’re not even sure if he remembers when he said it last year. He looks confused, but only for a moment.

“Wait - did I - I did, didn’t I?” he says, shaking his head incredulously.

“When I said that, I - it was in the moment, and I almost swore I didn’t - I’ve played that moment, that entire night, in my head almost every day. And - and never knew for sure if I actually said what I felt.”

You feel your heart flutter, your stomach doing somersaults.

“So - you meant it?” you ask cautiously.

He smiles again, big and wide, and gently presses his lips to yours.

“Yes,” he breathes. “I’ve loved you as long as I’ve known you. I was just waiting for you to catch up.”

“Since we were five?” you ask, feeling like the wind has been knocked from your lungs. He just nods. You nuzzle your nose into his, and softly whisper, “Well, I love you too, Steve Harrington.”

LATER, WINTER 1989

It’s loud, warm with bodies, and hazy from smoke - you make you way through the crowd, drink in-hand. You glance at the clock - it’s 11:57, where is he -

“Hey you!” a voice shouts. You laugh as RObin slings her arm around you, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek.

“Hey!” you laugh, pulling her close into a side hug. “Where’ve you been?”

“Well, I was talking to Nancy, but there’s only so much canoodling with Jonathan that I can handle.”

You chuckle, glancing over at where the couple stands in the corner, practically devouring each other.

“Well, where’s Vickie?” you ask, searching over the crowded living room.

“She went to get more champagne, but I don’t - oh! Look, they found each other!”

You follow her gaze, and settle on Robin’s redheaded girlfriend - talking to Steve. You relax at the sight of him, even though he had been by your side only a few minutes ago. He smiles when you spots you, holding out an arm to wrap around you as you sidle up to him.

“Hi,” he says softly, quietly enough that you hardly hear him over the music.

“Hey, you,” you reply, earning a kiss on the crown of your head.

“Is it almost time?” you ask. Robin glances at her watch, and practically jumps.

“Oh, gosh, yeah! Okay, everyone!” she shouts, scrambling to stand on a chair. Most of the room directs their attention to her, raising their glasses and letting out a few whoops and cheers.

“Alright people, grab someone pretty, make a few resolutions - and say goodbye to the 80s!”

Everyone cheers, and Robin looks down at her wrist again.

“Okay! Ten! Nine -”

Steve pulls you close by your waist, gazing down at you like you’re his whole world. Though, you know that there’s a good chance it’s true. He brushes your hair to the side, and whispers, “Ready for 1990?”

You know what promises the new year will bring - you, starting your full-time job in New York, in the apartment that you and Steve are getting together, with the promise of always coming back to Hawkins for the holidays. A life, that you’re building together, after so many years of dancing around it. It makes sense that you’ve ended up here, ringing in a new decade after being a part of each other’s lives for nearly as long as you’ve known.

“Five! Four! Three -”

You grin, bringing your hand to the nape of his neck.

“As long as it’s you and me, Harrington.”

“ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!” Robin screams, followed by a series of applause and cheers.

Steve meets you halfway, and kisses you like he always does, enough that you melt into him like you’ll die if you aren’t attached to him. There’s no need to run anymore. Because, as long as you’re with Steve, you’re home.

Author’s note: well, that’s the end of TTDS. I’m sorry for the wait, but I hope it was worth it! I’m diving into my new Steve series next, and working through my inbox for some blurb requests. But, if you’d like to request prompts/blurbs based on this story, I’d be happy to do that - I think it’s be fun to see other scenes from throughout or after the events of this story. I appreciate every like, reblog, comment, and message - I read every single one. Let me know what you think of the story! Merry Christmas to all who celebrate, and I’ll see y’all in the new year!

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